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specific one?”
    “The daughter of General Kazuhiro Mutsuraga.”
    “I see her address and working status, but there is no obituary or termination notice.”
    “What if it was recent?”
    “Our information is updated hourly and I’m not seeing anything, sir.”
    “Can you connect me with her?”
    “Is this a matter of milit–”
    “Yes,” Ben cut her off impatiently.
    “I’ll need your clearance code for–”
    “Forget it,” Ben said, on second thought. “Do you know where her father currently is?”
    “General Mutsuraga’s whereabouts are currently unknown.”
    “Thank you,” Ben said and disconnected.
    He thought of Claire again and knew he needed another drink. He rushed back in to join Tiffany. The sword man had finished his act. Eight short performers were doing acrobatics with panda bears. A woman burned her whole body, making it resemble a charcoal painting with chaff knuckles and veins like broken pipe works mired in corpuscles. Ben downed a shot.
    “What happened?” Tiffany asked. “You were gone half an hour.”
    “The waitress tried to have sex with me,” he lied, thinking it was outrageous enough that she would believe it.
    “Did you accept?”
    “Are you serious?”
    “Yes, I’m serious. I don’t mind that sort of thing. It’s flattering actually,” Tiffany said.
    “How’s it flattering?”
    “A woman tries to steal you from me directly under my nose. It’s bold.”
    “Or stupid.”
    “You know I’m not going home with you tonight, right?”
    “Yeah. My late night business ritual,” he said. “What about afterwards?”
    “Find yourself another date.”
    “You have another date lined up already?”
    “Do you mind?”
    “Never.”
    She put her hand on his arm. “Then what’s bugging you?”
    “Ghosts,” Ben answered.
    A man allowed himself to drown to death on the stage, gasping for oxygen, dying from lack of breath, only to be resuscitated a few moments later. Ben empathized.
                                  2:12AM
    As was custom, the officers from the Santa Monica Office of the Censor were having a late night sake ceremony to celebrate the promotions that would officially come after the holidays. It was a restaurant called the Hakodate , known for its savory oysters and abalone. The bottom three floors were open to the public, while the top two were for private ceremonies. The floors were comprised of tatami mats and everyone took off their shoes. The table sat sixty and, as Ben was about to enter and find his seat, one of Lieutenant General Hirota’s aides intercepted him. “Can I have a word?” he asked.
    In an adjacent room, the aide, a lieutenant who had dyed his hair red, said, “ Sumimasen ,” with a bow. “It was decided that you will remain a captain for this cycle.”
    It took a moment for Ben to register what he’d been told. “What happened? I thought this was a formality.”
    “I don’t know the full details,” he answered. “Thank you for understanding.”
    “Did I offend someone? Is there some transgression I’m not aware of?”
    “Again, I’m sorry. I’m only relaying the news.”
    Ben shifted his feet. “I guess… I guess I should go home.”
    “Your presence has been requested for the ceremony.”
    “Why? I’m not getting promoted.”
    “You would lose face if you left after arriving.”
    “I would lose more face by staying,” Ben snapped.
    “You’re raising your voice,” the lieutenant informed him, the walls being paper thin. “It would not be good form for the department if you left on this note.”
    Ben did his best to control his shaking hands. The lieutenant had a blank expression that infuriated him even more. “It sounds like I don’t have a choice.”
    The lieutenant guided him in and escorted him to the end of the long table. All those being promoted were seated next to the lieutenant general’s seat. Ben was on the opposite end since positioning was by rank and he was one of