The astral blurs—Bandit reaches the side of the house in an instant. He slips in through the wall. There are alarms in the wall, sophisticated devices, but they have no life and so no significance to anyone on the astral plane. He enters a spacious room like a living room, so-called, filled with all the usual dead furnishings, but also a number of interesting objects. Vases and bowls and other artifacts, like from a museum, scattered across tables and shelves and the fireplace mantel. All show glimmers and gleamings of magical energies. Bandit considers these artifacts briefly. They are as much a part of the room as the many-paned windows and shaggy carpet, and yet, to him, perhaps only to his aesthetic sense, they seem alien, as if originally from some place unknown to him, a place very far away.