It was a vaguely bulb-shaped device with a long neck, a bowl at the top, and half a dozen flexible hoses trailing out of it. It seemed to be made from...blown glass, embellished with colorful resins or maybe metals in shades of green.Maza reached over, picking up a small container that was resting beside the device on the tray, upending it into the bowl and placing a metal cap that was dotted with ventilation holes over the top of it. The stuff had looked like dried grass or maybe tobacco. There. He awoke feverish, bathed in sweat, with the sheets soaked with semen. He hadn't the vaguest idea of what he had dreamed.Six months later he was still alone. And hungry. Hungry for sex. Hungry for touch. Hungry for fulfillment. Hungry for a little excitement. Just plain hungry. He dialed up the take-out place down the street.He jerked awake at the dining table. The remains of an anchovy-and-mushroom pizza stared up at him. Must have nodded off. "These friggin midnight snacks'll do me in some. More

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