Once again, An came to his senses in his usual seat, at his desk. The same yellowish twilight all around. Limbo. Rows of tables, indifferent people frozen in expectation of eternity. If he’d woken up, that meant another call had come in - right?

  He listened to his inner sensations.

  An astonishing calm. Serenity. There was no commanding pull urging him to go to the counter immediately, to receive instructions from the “clerks.” Trying to prolong the pleasant feeling, he stretched out his legs and ced his hands behind his head. Maybe they’d decided to give him a day off?

  Amused by his own joke, An carefully pulled his lips into a smile. How long had it been since he was allowed to act like this… on his own? To think, to joke, to rex. To remember…

  With a sudden jolt, he sprang to his feet. He remembered the kiosk and the vortex - and what had come after. But it seemed that now everything had returned to its normal rhythm. Order restored. The system fixed.

  Nodding to himself in satisfaction at a job well done, adopting a calm and modest demeanor, he headed for the counter. If there was a call, there was work to do - and he would do it.

  The “clerks” were in pce. Almost identical, the same as ever - gleaming, indifferent. As always, An met their gaze; the belt with the rod materialized around his waist. Soundless directives - and the elevator carried him away.

  Again.

  This time he was greeted by an August evening on the edge of a spruce forest. Looking around, he tested his new ability - carefully now, almost without fear - drawing in a breath. The scent of pine needles, overripe grasses, peat, and mushrooms filled him.

  He knew this pce. He had often been here with the man who had repced his father.

  Father…?

  If he walked a little farther along the road, went down and then back up, there would be a small ravine to the right, overgrown with thistles… There was no inner compulsion, no knowledge of where to go in order to do the job. That was strange. Which meant An would have to find it - and carry it out - on his own.

  He moved forward, along roads and paths emerging from memory and the evening mist alike. Spruces, birches, bckberry bushes. Patches of woodnd, ripened and harvested fields. Darkness deepened. Dew began to fall.

  How long had he been wandering? He hadn’t had a watch in a long time…

  He… Where was he?

  Throwing his head back, the young man stared at the sky. Scattered stars - utterly unfamiliar - were constantly in motion, shimmering and rearranging themselves into one pattern, then another. Above him spun something like a spiral, or a gigantic jellyfish made of stars. For a moment, a pattern appeared in the shape of a hand, pointing at it with a finger.

  And then it vanished.