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developers had purchased the air rights and then very tastefully decided not to use them. Strike a blow for restraint. The elevator said otherwise. This thing was a fucking tower. How had they done that? The optics for such effects, Pattern explained to him, had been around for fifteen years or more. Brutally old-fashioned technology. Practically cave man. She thought it looked cheesy at this point.
    â€˜A stealth scraper,’ said George, wanting to sound appreciative.
    â€˜Hardly. It’s literally smoke and mirrors,’ Pattern said. ‘I am not fucking kidding. And it’s kind of gross. But whatever. I love this bar. These cocktails are fucking violent. There’s a frozen pane of pork in this one. Ridiculously thin. They call it pork glass.’
    â€˜Yum,’ said George, absently.
    The funny thing about the bar, which was only just dawning on George, was that it was entirely free of people. And deadly silent. Out the window was a view of the city he’d never seen. Whenever he looked up he had the sensation that he was somewhere else. In Europe. In the past. On a film set. Asleep. Every now and then a young woman crept out from behind a curtain to touch Pattern on the wrist, moving her finger back and forth. Pattern would smell her wrist, make a face, and say something unintelligible.
    But here she was, his very own sister. It was like looking at his mother and his father and himself, but refined, the damaged cells burned off. The best parts of them, contained in this one person.
    â€˜First of all, George,’ Pattern said. ‘Dad’s girlfriend? Really?’
    â€˜Trish?’
    â€˜What a total pig you are. Does this woman need to be abused and neglected by two generations of our family?’
    â€˜How could you know anything about that?’
    â€˜Oh cut it out. It astonishes me when I meet people who still think they have secrets. It’s so quaint! You understand that even with your doors closed and lights out . . . Please tell me you understand. I couldn’t bear it if you were that naive. My own brother.’
    â€˜I understand, I think.’
    â€˜That man you pay to watch you while you’re cleaning the house? On your laptop screen?’
    â€˜Guy Fox.’
    â€˜Oh, George, you are a funny young man.’
    â€˜That’s actually a fairly mainstream habit, to have a watcher.’
    â€˜Right, George, it’s happening all over the Middle East, too. A worldwide craze. In Poland they do it live. It’s called a peeping Tom. But who cares. Baby brother is a very strange bird.
    â€˜So,’ she said, scooting closer to him and giving him a luxurious hug. ‘Mom and Dad never told you, huh?’
    â€˜Told me what?’
    â€˜They really never told you?’
    â€˜I’m listening.’
    â€˜I’m just not sure it’s for me to say. Mom and Dad talked about it kind of a lot, I mean we all did. I just figured they’d told you.’
    â€˜What already, Jesus. There’s no one else left to tell me.’
    â€˜You were adopted. That’s actually not the right word. Dad got in trouble at work and his boss forced him to take you home and raise you. You were born out of a donkey’s ass. Am I remembering correctly? That doesn’t sound right. From the ass of an ass.’
    He tried to smile.
    â€˜I’m just kidding, George, Jesus. What is wrong with people?’
    â€˜Oh my god, right?’ said George. ‘Why can’t people entertain more stupid jokes at their own expense? Je- sus . It’s so frustrating! When, like, my world view isn’t supported by all the little people beneath me? And I can’t demean people and get an easy laugh ? It’s so not fair!’
    â€˜Oh fuck off, George.’
    They smiled. It felt really good. This was just tremendously nice.
    â€˜You don’t understand,’ he said, trying harder than usual to be serious. ‘Mom punted so long ago I