“But didn’t you say that it had all worked out,” Cayce asks, “in the meantime?” “Yes,” says Ngemi, with quiet pride, “but now I am negotiating to buy Stephen King’s Wang.” Cayce stares at him. “The provenance,” Ngemi assures her, “is immaculate, the price high, but, I believe, reasonable. A huge thing, one of the early dedicated word processors. Shipping alone will require the funds I had earmarked for the scaffolding, and more.”
