The megacity began to feel lower. Not in distance or viscosity, but in authorization. Yasin tasted it in the way certain thoroughfares dragged at his attention while others sounded to fade from applicability, in how some structures hummed noiselessly with concentrated memory while others remained stubbornly mute. He learned, without anyone explaining it to him, that harkening too nearly reshaped the chart of where he was allowed to be. He stopped taking the shelter after the third time the coverts rumored his name. The first incident could be dismissed as prostration, the alternate as coexistence. By the third, the sound had resolved itself