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Ryan, Prentice Mill, and Carlson Fiddle—them being all casual-like, almost acting like he was one of them. The four men were sitting together at the front of the first train car. Poole couldn’t quite make out what Ryan and Mill were saying over the rumble of the Atlantic Express. A pensive, pinch-faced man, Mill seemed worried about something … They were all on their way to the Adonis Luxury Resort, though it was far from finished—only the Roman-style public baths were ready, steaming for bathers. Ryan wanted The Rapture Tribune to report some progress. To Poole’s right were Mill and Ryan; to his left sat Carlson Fiddle, a bespectacled, nattily dressed, soft-faced man, gently wringing his hands in his lap. Fiddle looked put-upon and preoccupied—and prissily startled as the train lurched into motion. The kind of fussy little man who made you think of an old lady. It was like he’d spent too much time with his mother. They’d just come from the future site of what was to be Ryan Amusements, and now, as the train started for Adonis, Poole sensed that there was a story in Carlson Fiddle’s pensiveness. “Well, Carlson—” Poole began. “May I call you Carlson?” “No,” Fiddle said, frowning at the floor. Poole winced as he took out his pen and notebook. He knew he wasn’t a person who easily commanded respect. As the train passed through a tunnel he could see his reflection in the dark window, beyond Fiddle—the reflection was sickly, the dark glass making him look even more hollow eyed than normal. But, at best, how did anyone take him seriously, with those jutting ears, that skinny neck, and protruding Adam’s apple? The gauntness was worse lately—he had trouble keeping his food down. Maybe it was the binges on booze and drugs he’d gotten into since arriving in Rapture. Poole cleared his throat and tried again: “Quite a job you’ve got, Mr. Fiddle—designing Ryan Amusements, I mean. Amusement park for the kids, that the ticket?” He smiled encouragingly, hoping Fiddle would get the joke. But not a flicker of amusement came from the guy. Fiddle adjusted his glasses. “Yes, yes, we’ll have animatronics, some interesting, ah, exhibits planned. I’m a bit baffled about what Mr. Ryan