Your mistake is that you assume they j are inevitably the spirits of people who have died. But many things leave a I presence when they have ceased to exist: a childhood home, a lost jacket, a school that has been torn down to make a parking lot. Go back to the street where the home existed, visit the parking lot on a quiet afternoon, stop by the field where you removed the jacket and laid it on the ground while you played ball, and you will feel their presence as you never did in the mundane world. —Vicki Greene, Midnight and Roses, 1419 We got a call from a tall, well-pressed guy with sandy hair and an expression that suggested he'd just come from a funeral. His name was Riko Calvekio. He identified himself as representing United Transport, and asked for an appointment to see Alex. “He'll be available this afternoon,” I told him. “At three.” He showed up on the hour, still looking like a man in mourning. I took him back to Alex's office.
