Aperitif

They came in peace. They came hungry. The distinction is ours. Max Reznik is taking out the trash when the ship arrives. A hundred metres of mirror-hull settles over the Superfund lake behind the Terminal Diner, and the delegation that descends walks straight past the state troopers to bow at the man who smells of the griddle. They call him Master of Matter Preparation. They take his hand in both ...