. , “ she paused, then curled her arms upward by her sides, fingers pointing inward. “Um ... do they really need to... , “ She was looking at ...e expectantly.I couldn’t see if she was blushing but I did. “Oh, I see, you mean ... will they still, uh, search you if you’re ... not big,” I finished awkwardly.“Yes, yes. That’s it,” Mrs. Yamato said.I could see now that she was blushing, or at least, I sensed she was embarrassed.“Yes, they will. They have to, it’s part of the procedure.”“Oh,” she. Now, on with the show! –Benn Morland —————————————– Prologue The wizened old man shambled up the attic stairs, his failing senses unable to tell the difference between the creaking of the wood below his feet and that of his weary bones. He was going to die before the sun rose again. He knew this, though he could not tell you how he knew. His gnarled fingers, twisted by time and by activity, lifted the lid of an oaken chest clad in faded leather from a cow slaughtered long before the old man. More

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