When McCormick first saw The Blue Pearl the shock of fortune disabled him. It had only been a month since he’d received, for five-hundred dollars, the Guru’s initiating touch. And yes he’d cleaned the ashram bathrooms every week. And yes he’d felt his burdens lift in the quiet, incense-soaked mediation hall. But that glowing azure seed was meant to be the culmination of lifetimes.
So when it burst in that day, McCormick, though breathless with bliss, did not board the ship for distant worlds that undeniably had come. Instead he opened his eyes and looked around, at everyone else.