Along with the defense outfits were several of the Hollywood light and magic companies. When I thought about it, that made sense; Hollywood has always been a magic-intensive business. I wished I remembered which outfit had made the St. George epic that had snarled traffic this morning - I might have been tempted to try some name magic on it myself, more because I knew it would be useless than for any other reason.

I was a little more surprised to find how many hospitals were on the list Layfolk see only the benefits medicine brings; they don't think much about the costs involved (except the ones that come from their purses). But healing bodies - and especially working with diseased souls - takes its toll on the environment like any high-tech enterprise.

There's only one major carpet plant left in Angels City - the General Movers looms in Van Nuys. They dumped at Devonshire, too. The GM plant wasn't high on my list of probable culprits, though. For one thing, I had a solid notion of the kinds of spells it used. For another, it's likely to close down in the next year or two: too much competition from less expensive Oriental rugs.

And what was I supposed to make of outfits called Gall Divided, Slow Jinn Fizz, and Red Phoenix? Until I got back to the office to see what they were dumping, I was as much in the dark about what they actually did as I was with Essence Extractions, Inc. They sounded more interesting, though, I must say.

After a moment, my eyes came back to Red Phoenix. I underline the name, just on the off chance. The phoenix was a bird neither Judy nor I had thought of the night before. It would be worth checking out, at any rate.