Mass Conspiracy

(Continued from Ambush, and before)

Were the citadels closed?


Off-season at the spirtual oasis?





How does Clark Kent change, I wondered, in the cell phone world?

Had I the stamina to continue, or would I be replaced, by a pod-grown replica, incapable of feeling, perfectly charmed by finely honed granite, breakfast bars, and pre-textured drywall.

My chi was jammed.