31 I step into my pod as I prepare to take the train to BeiShan . The pod is filled with ghosts, ethereal and momentary , all passing through this world and this time for the briefest of stops. The universe started here, or there, and continues on from there, or here, to there or here, always moving, always suffering rebuilding, rethinking its mistakes , and compensating for its endless flaws, everything moving forward though. Sometimes by leaps and bounds, other times more tediously, and death and life and birth and growth—all of it blurs as we progress. And so really who are these ghosts to my left and right? They may leave something behind, but more likely they will be forgotten, what remains little more than memory and dust. The train rolls into BeiShan and my pod locks into the station awaiting my release. As I depart I look out over the neighborhood, the hustlers and thieves, the vendors and the nuts, the poets and SynthKhat dealers, the grid-faced police and endlessly hovering black helicopters. They are all ghosts too, here now, and then gone, because that’s where it all goes, nowhere, and everywhere. Today the Earth, tomorrow Mars, after that Venus, or somewhere still undiscovered. Everything gets destroyed, consumed and subsumed, and then we move on, and on, and on; and so here, now, I must be in it, before I become a ghost as well. I walk up to the office door, still nondescript and still hidden in plain sight. A helicopter swoops by overhead, as always, briefly pausing, but then moving on just as quickly as it appeared. I place my hand squarely against the scanner O R P H A N S 104 next to the door and feel the laser glide over and around the curlicues in my fingertips and the endlessly arching cracks and folds of my palms. When the green light blinks I lean forward and allow the eye scanner to pass before and across my eyes, first right to left, followed by a puff of air, then left to right, pause, another puff of air before the scanner ’s beams stop to linger, boring their way into the deep recesses of my eyes, until all involved are satisfied that I am Norrin Radd, no more, no less. The door snaps open, I walk in and approach the front desk where the E.C. with the sweet ass awaits me. “Hey handsome,” the E.C. says, “I’ve been patiently waiting for you to return, but it hasn’t been easy. It gets lonely here when you’re not around.” “Yeah,” I say, “you stayed faithful though, right, tell me you did. I did.” “You know I did,” the E.C. says almost purring. A scantily dressed Terrax walks by and I turn to look. “Hey,” the E.C. says, “eyes forward, that’s not cool.” “You’re right,” I say, “but you’re so hot I need a distraction or I may just forget I’m a married man.” “Good save Sailor,” the E.C. says, “they’re waiting inside for you.” “Until next time,” I say. “Can’t wait,” the E.C. says as I walk past her and into the coffee room. Sitting around the table are Ricky, Shelley and John, all waiting for me, and knowing everything, and nothing, all at once. “There he is,” Ricky shouts clapping his hands. “How you doing kid? good to see those ancient shuttles can still get the job done,” Shelley says, his old-man smell still permeating the space between us. [54.166.234.171] Project MUSE (2024-03-19 11:09 GMT) B E N TA N Z E R 105 “This guy is all about the close,” Ricky says jumping up, “you should have seen him—he’s a rock star, a fucking rock star.” “You’ve got the gift,” Shelley says, “and it is a gift, it doesn’t matter how you got here, only what you do when you’re through the door.” “And you are through the door,” Ricky says. “Mazel tov, genius.” John isn’t saying anything, just watching, slightly bemused , slightly annoyed, bound to kill this conversation at any moment. “You get to go home too, don’t you kid,” Shelley says, “that’s nice.” “Right,” Ricky says, “your kid, your own bed, your woman, beautiful, well-earned and beautiful.” “And nothing to worry about,” Shelley says, his voice slightly cracking, “it’s all...