They start down the wide concourse of the mall. Escalators in mirrors branch off to a score of other floors, some real, some not. “Put the posters up then rub this rod over them. That activates the bond.”

Jim puts one small poster up, on the window of a Pizza City. This one’s a holo of a naked girl standing in knee-deep tropical surf; the shift of angle and it’s another blood-soaked fallen soldier, with the words “THE DEFENSE DEPT. RUNS THIS COUNTRY—RESIST” underneath. “Whoah. This might spoil a few dinners.”

By now it’s nearly four A.M., although it’s impossible to tell inside the mall, which is as timeless as a casino. The big department stores are closed, but everywhere else the windows and mirrors and tile walls gleam with a jumpy neon insistence:

Lights! Camera! Action!

Long central atrium, five stories tall.

Plastic trees, colored light fountains. Reflected

Images. Game parlors, snack bars, video bars: all open, all pulsing.

Hey, guess what! I’m hungry.

The South Coast carousel is spinning. All its animals have riders.

Glazed eye. Clashing music spheres. Blinks.

Gangs in the restroom niches, in closed shop entries.

Into an expresso bar. Hanging out.

Shopping.

On Main Street.

You live here.

Jim and Arthur slap their posters on walls, windows, doors. “The mortuary is really hopping tonight,” Arthur says.

Jim laughs. He hates malls himself, though he spends as much time in them as anyone. “So why do you poster a place like this? Isn’t it a waste of molecular ceramics?”

“Mostly, sure. But the draft has gotten teeth since the Gingrich Act was reenacted, and a lot of people in here are bait. They don’t know it because they don’t read newsheets. In fact when you get right down to it they don’t know a fucking thing.”

“The sleepwalkers.”

“Yeah.” Arthur gestures at a group lidded almost beyond the point of walking. “Sleepwalkers, exactly. How do you reach people like that? I published a newsheet for a while.”

“I know. I liked it.”

“Yeah, but you read. You’re in a tiny minority. Especially in OC. So I decided to move into media where I can reach more people. We make videos that do really well, because they’re sex comedies for the most part. The newsheet equipment has been converted to poster work.”

“I’ve seen the ones on Indonesia that Sandy has in his study. They’re beautiful.”

Arthur waves a hand, annoyed. “That’s irrelevant. You culture-vultures are all alike. It’s all aesthetics for you. I don’t suppose you really believe in anything at all. It’s just whatever attracts the eye.”