nizations that supply the namesof Oriental women who want to become American brides, computer dating firms, pen pal associat ouse in 1924, William Weisel sat in filth, trying to eat the butt of a stale loaf ofpumpernickel he had stolen from a garbage can. And I leaned in very close, so she would make no mistake that I was deadserious. The Trekkie atthe one Star Trek convention I was inveigled into attending, who said of my books, to me, “ Well, if they’ renot about Star Trek, they’ re lull of shit.
” The young man shoved him back. He wasattached to the slime-coated upper wall of the basement, hanging close to the stone, pulsing softly andgiving off a thin purple light, purple as a bruise. The only breezewas coming in from the hallway, and they were jammed together in front of the passage. The reels whirled, the handle snapped back, and in a second they flipped down to a halt, twentysilver dollars t
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