When he got there, the Shelters were dark. He didn't know what he had expected, but it wasn't this. Reflection showed him that he hadn't thought about it clearly. The existence of Shelters indicated an economic level in which few people would either want or need to make use of that which was provided freely.  
He skirted the area. He'd been found in one of the Shelters—which one he didn't know. Perhaps he should have checked the record before he came here.
 
No, this was better. Clues, he was convinced, were almost non-existent. He had to rely on his body and mind; but not in the ordinary way. He was particularly sensitive to impressions he had received before; the way he had learned things in therapy proved that; but if he tried to force them, he could be led astray. The wisest thing was to react naturally, almost without . He should be able to recognize the Shelter he'd been found in without trouble. From that, he could work back.
 
That was the theory—but it wasn't happening. He circled the area, and there was nothing to which he responded more than .
 
He would have to go closer.
 
He crossed the street. The plan of the Shelters was simple; an area two blocks long and one block wide, heavily planted with and small trees. In the center was an S-shaped continuous structure divided into a number of small units.
 
Luis walked along one wing of the building, turned at the corner and turned again. It was quite dark. He supposed that was why he wasn't reacting to anything. But his senses were............