Marveling at the absolute silence of the Phaeton’s ride, Michael arrived fifteen minutes late, at the door of a restaurant that must surely cost the better part of five million a year in rent just to keep the door open, given Chiba’s overcrowding and the prodigiously wasteful use of space within. Each table was cocooned in its own curved walled partition complete with cunningly designed acoustic shielding and sliding plastic and alloy doors.