As the Indian moved through the Sunday tourist crowds thronging Aurora Village, his swagger and rugged appearance opened a path for him, making his progress swift. With nonchalant ease he sidestepped those too self-absorbed or oblivious to notice him, never breaking his rhythm. Only once was he interrupted, when a fat German suit bumped into him. There was a slight jostling and for the next few steps, a smiling Ghost let deutschmarks, corporate scrip, coins, and credsticks dribble from his fingers. The turmoil in the crowd behind him made his forward progress even easier. The Indian seemed in no hurry. An observer might have thought that he turned in Sam’s direction purely by chance. Sam stepped out from behind the kiosk to greet him, but Ghost beat him to it.