"Um.  I'm Ethan . . . I like cowpokes, and . . . . drawing?  And movies.  Um."

"What kind of movies?" Mrindeh asks.

"Funny ones, I guess.  And ones with animals."

"What's your favorite? I'm going to tell people they should watch it and write up what they think and then you can read what they said and see if anybody sounds right for you."

"Oh, Catastrophe Ann and The Favorite 3.  I've seen them both a thousand times at least."

"Gosh. Okay. Does the second one have prequels?"

"Yeah.  They're pretty good but not as much."

"I'll put that in the bulletin. Anything else people should know?"

". . . My parents might have killed me?  And I don't want new ones, just," - he swallows - "just a friend who's a grownup.  And I guess has magic powers."

Mrindeh nods very seriously and writes this down.

"Should we be like. Getting your parents prosecuted," says Cam. "Or is somebody probably already on that."

"I don't know that they did, for sure.  But I wasn't sick or anything, and I woke up dead, and they didn't come to talk to me while I was a star - "

"Felicity, is there a good way to make sure someone is investigating this? - do you have any siblings, Ethan -"

"Two half ones.  They don't live with my parents except some weekends."

"Did anyone else living talk to you while you were a star?"

"Not except you, I guess. There were some clouds but I mostly didn't want to talk to them."

"Right." She sighs. "How long has it been since you died?"

"A couple days. I missed some school but I did that a lot anyways."

Felicity nods. "I can send in an anonymous tip to let the authorities know to look for you, if you'd like to tell me about where you lived."

"I mean . . . I guess if they really did kill me they should get fivect lashes, but what if - I don't want them to know where I am at all . . ."

"An anonymous tip could be from someone who just talked to you while you were a star, couldn't it? - also unrelatedly I'm not thrilled about corporal punishment but I'm not going to jump on it for this specific case, just, like, if you notice an interest group I can throw stuff at let me know, Felicity."

"I guess."  He starts scooting back towards his apartment.

"The Alphabet Conglomerate can probably point us at at least one."

"Baby?" prompts Mrindeh.

"One unfortunate fact is that I really don't think it's going to be possible to resurrect baby singlets on a timescale relevant to you, because stuffing one's soul back into a corporeal form is - somewhat difficult, and I haven't found a way to communicate how to try to them.  So, we could either try with a cloud of babies, if that interests you, or look for a cloud of for example three babies and a four-year-old, or Cam can send one of my other bodies last month's slave registry and I can snoop on parents who sold babies to find a set who won't miss their child even once we've freed all the slaves."

"A cloud of babies," says Mrindeh thoughtfully. "What would that be like?"