Shit. Life is full of doors that don’t open when you knock, equally spaced amid those that open when you don’t want them to.

I went back and knocked on the bedroom door, and Flora told me to come in. She was seated before a mirror, applying makeup.

“How’d it go?” she asked.

“Not too well. Totally unsatisfactory, actually.” I summarized the results of my calls.

“So what are you going to do now?” she inquired.

“Get in touch with Random,” I said, “and bring him up to date. I’ve got a feeling he’ll call me back to hear it all. So I wanted to say good-bye, and thanks for helping me. Sorry if I broke up your romance.”

She shrugged, her back still to me, as she studied herself in the mirror. “Don’t worry —”

I did not hear the remainder of her sentence, though she continued talking. My attention was snatched away by what seemed the beginning of a Trump contact. I made myself receptive and waited. The feeling grew stronger but the caller’s presence did not become manifest. I turned away from Flora.

“Merle, what is it?” I heard her say then.

I raised one hand to her as the feeling intensified. I seemed to be staring down a long black tunnel with nothing at its farther end.

“I don’t know,” I said, summoning the Logrus and taking control of one of its limbs. “Ghost? Is that you? Are you ready to talk?” I asked. There was no reply. I felt a chill as I remained receptive, waiting. I had never experienced anything quite like this before. I’d a strong feeling that if I but moved forward I would be transported somewhere. Was this a challenge? A trap? Whatever, I felt that only a fool would accept such an invitation from the unknown. For all I knew, it might deliver me back to the crystal cave.

“If there is something you want,” I said, “you are going to have to make yourself known and ask. I’ve given up on blind dates.”