I ignored him until he throttled down. That was not normal. It was a pleasant night, but an hour after curfew. City lights from Saigon to the east turned the dark a velvety purple, and the sweet smell of paddy shoots perfumed the air. Traffic had died and the sooty fumes of military vehicles had settled. A breeze gave the night a silky feel and I was taking my time walking from the main gate at Tan Son Nhut Airfield to my apartment off Le Van Duyet avenue. The only sound was my footsteps crunching gravel at the highway edge, careful not to twist an ankle by slipping into the open culvert besid