His mind flashed back to New Hlobane. Without the slightest chance of finding Serrin, he’d done so. And he’d accomplished it by trying to do absolutely nothing, just being empty and still. He couldn’t make sense of that. Tom had spent his whole life trying to do things: running the shadows, killing, stealing, drinking in the bad old days, working in downtown Seattle in the better ones. Anything he’d got from life, anything that had any meaning for him, he’d gone out and actively sought to get, or at least tried to.