The thing couldn’t see Stranger as he watched from the perch where the shuttle had left him — beyond the city limits, at the desert’s edge. But Stranger could see the Reptar just fine. And he focused. Attempted to see the world through Astral eyes. Stranger squinted, trying to do the thing he’d done before. Trying to pop the Reptar like a big purple zit. But it was no use. Taking in all that new Meyer Dempsey on the mothership had been like drinking a bottle of liquor. He was drunk on Dempsey. The last of the Pall’s floating, ephemeral nature was gone now that he had all that extra humanity. Now he wasn’t Pall at all, as he’d been when he’d turned the last Reptar to mincemeat. He was this new thing, through and through. Now he was Stranger, from mouth to asshole. Just like any of the others. Well, not just like any of the others. He pulled a pair of silver balls from his pocket and revolved them in his palm. They orbited like twin suns. Technically speaking, the balls hadn’t existed until he’d pulled them from his pocket.
