Oh, that face, so familiar, someone who gave you a dime, a train ticket, instructions on how to set up something you bought in a store, someone who gave you an injection when you were two, someone who took your library card and never gave it back... it had expired, the new one which was supposed to come in the mail never arrived and from then until you left town you never read another book from that building... now it seems that you're back in the stacks, looking for a book that has something in it you once read, a conversation between two people that gave away some information you need to know now, need to know it or you'll never get out of here before morning, before the air fan comes on and sucks you into a pipe and back into the basement, like it seems to do everyday, almost as long as you can remember.     Hive-Maker believed that someday these lights would swarm into our world, to join the living.