Jacob dissolves into the space between the curve of the sand, and the perspective-less mist of the mountain. Space wipes itself clean of forked human forms every once in a while, leaving clean mountain air and high starry nights for all the non-humans to enjoy, for a few moments. Noone hurt, just the mist and white noise of the wind go up for a moment, and people in hats just can't be seen or heard. Up in the control room, however, the weather-bees are still tracking Jacob.     The next morning found me at White Sands, a great stretch of pulverized gypsum, the main material in wall-board.