Another man opened his eyes - and hissed in irritation. Then he sat up, and began methodically running his hands over his face and clothing.
Hmm. It seems that if this process began by utilizing a handy body, it turned it into a replica of my former one. Even the clothes feel identical to those I last wore.
Quite satisfactory, on the whole. Given a choice, I would have preferred to be sighted - and forty years younger! But this will do nicely.
Smiling, Lodz got to his feet and carefully explored his surroundings. He was right where he'd intended to be, inside one of New Canaan's many tents. At present, he was sharing it with two corpses. The restoration process hadn't provided him with a cane, but he could improvise something; all that mattered for now was that he was safely indoors, not attracting attention by stumbling around the camp.
These young Avatars are so predictable! Charming children. Even Hawkins would have been manageable if Belyakov hadn't betrayed me.
He put that unpleasant memory out of his mind, and dwelt instead on the accuracy of his recent guesses.
I knew that when Sofie came face to face with her father, it wouldn't take her long to realize what he is, and what she is. I was right in believing Hawkins would succeed in killing Crowe, and Sofie would restore him to life - for one reason or another. As I expected, she made such exuberant use of her power that she killed all the living things in the valley, and restored to life all the dead things.
Including the only ghost who'd foreseen the opportunity!
His fertile mind was already hatching another plan.
I have to get back to my sweet Lila "in the flesh," as I promised. But that will take time.
First, I want to revisit the carnival in my astral body. Transporting to any of the familiar trailers should be easy. If I can take control of Ruthie again, I'll have a real chance of killing Hawkins while he's in a weakened condition.
What a glorious triumph that would be! The boy who'd killed him as dead as that swine Belyakov, his adoring Ruthie forced to live with the knowledge that her hands had done the deed...
But I should be realistic. It's a chance, no more than that. If I can't kill him, my visit will serve to keep my enemies believing I'm still a ghost. Then I'll be able to take them by surprise when I show up in person.
He nodded smugly, congratulating himself on his foresight.
And now, with the plan in place, it's time to think of other things. I wonder if these pious folk had any alcohol in their tent?