All around, the spectral Natural Mind clients were peering and gesturing at their screens. A windowless office with a closed door ran along the room’s rear. Jayjay couldn’t peep into the office, what with its walls being covered with quantum-mirror varnish. A light over the office door glowed yellow, same as at the foot of the stairs.

“The Man?” said Kittie, inclining her head in that direction.

“Andrew Topping,” confirmed Mary Moo. “Just agree with him no matter what he says. He’s rather overbearing and irritable. But all the other staffers here are quite pleasant.”

Sonic was peering over Prescription John’s shoulder, assessing the interface. The screen was displaying a surreal landscape modeling the San Francisco orphidnet activity. As John moved his hands, the view zoomed in and out of the user records, displaying clickstreams as colored paths through meme sculpture gardens and groves of personality trees. Now and then John would flick a fingertip to plant an ad link.

“Are all your ads for Dick Too Dibbs?” asked Thuy.

“Mostly,” said Mary Moo. “Some are for businesses as well. ExaExa, I think, and Stank. I don’t worry about the content. You want to stay here, you do this work.”

“You can’t trust Dick Too Dibbs,” protested Jayjay, getting down to the purpose of their visit. “I mean, come on, the first President Dibbs got the death penalty for promoting the nants. Doesn’t anyone remember anything in this country? Don’t be helping the Homesteady Party. They’re out to screw the little people. People like us.”

“Feller says the real point of our ads is to slow down the orphidnet,” said John, looking up from his screen. “Make folks unhappy with the status quo.”

“Out with the old, in with the new,” said Mary.

“You know it, Mary,” said John. “Mary used to be a social worker. She drug-counseled me a couple of times before the orphids come.”

“Drugs never appealed me,” said Mary. “Too low, too dangerous. But I couldn’t resist the Big Pig.”

“Plant an ad here,” said Sonic to Prescription John, pointing out a spot on the screen.

“You’d do fine in here, kiq,” said John, placing an ad-mine.

The light on the rear wall turned green and the door swung open. A tall, pasty-faced man in a black business suit gestured to the Posse, his mouth bent into a fake smile. Using the limited local orphidnet view, Jayjay spotted a pistol in a shoulder holster under the man’s coat.

“Here we go,” said Kittie, stepping forward to lead the way.