“Don’t you have a rehearsal tonight with Fausto?” Maxine asked. My head felt more distant than Pluto. I was drenched in sweat, but no longer in the forest: something wrong here. “What day is this?” “Wednesday. You’re in New York. How’d it go?” I arranged aching bones into a sitting position and tried to convert events of the last three days into words. After a silence, all I could say was, “Not sure.” “Did you find Tatal?” I saw a long, brown fer-de-lance. “She was dead.” “Did you get Barnard’s gear?” I smelled grime and fried banana. “Yes.” “Did you see Louis’s camp?” I felt a crushing darkness, heard waterfalls and the noise of a trillion cicadas. And I felt Ek. “Yes.” This room was so cold. What happened to all the bugs?