Sliced Bread 2: The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread

Man, it's good to be home. We landed a couple of days ago in the California desert and returned Glory B's spaceship to her. Cassie took a detour to go see her family while Greyghost and Ingrid and I deposited Fehnruller and Misty at some government office - the Department of Making You Wish You Had Never Been Born, or something. Cruickshank had arranged a car for us, and we drove it back east.

We made one stop in Keysbury, so I could have a quick visit with my family, whom I hadn't seen in a year or so. I had souvenirs from L.A. and Crideon as gifts for them, which partially made up for my missing Christmas (again). (Greyghost and Ingrid spent the time taking in the local sights. Which is usually good for about five minutes. I don't know what they did for the rest of the time.)

Back in Empire City, I dived into the big backlog of work that was waiting for me. It's amazing how much the same the place looks - there's been a massive cleanup since the day of the attacks. Even the Fourth Street Bridge has been rebuilt. The papers aren't talking about the spaceships... it's almost like it never happened. Which doesn't seem right. Can the world put something like that behind it so quickly?

I asked Greyghost about this. He shrugged, and said, "It's not as implausible as your marijuana story. What are the chances that two different planets with two different environments and evolutionary histories would produce the same plant, which has the same narcotic effect on two, or possibly three, unrelated species? Biologically absurd."

He was right, of course. "Okay, then. What about that?"

"What are you getting at?"

"I don't know. How could things like that happen, if they're so improbable?"

"They did happen."

"I'm not satisfied with that answer."

"Do you have a theory to explain these phenomena, then, that you want to convince me of?"

"No," I admitted.

"Mm."

I got back to work.