A Step on Cold Stone

Cold light hummed behind me. I blinked. My right hand flexed beneath the coat, fingers responding to thought. Ahead crouched a dark, tailed silhouette, motionless. Between us lay a small cylinder glowing pale cyan on the paving. I shifted my weight forward. My boot met the textured rock with a dull, real click. I reached down, fingertips brushing the cool plastic tube, nudge it an inch across the seam. It rolled slightly, then stopped. I can move.