CHAPTER 43Less than an hour before Mara expected Dr. Canfield to cut her off from this realm, the other Ping handed her a small rectangular carton. He had fashioned it with sturdy siding and a cushioned interior to accommodate the lightbulb that now contained the soul of Juaquin Prado.
“This should allow you to safely transport the bulb without fear of accidently releasing its contents,” he said, crossing the steam lab to put away some tools. As he arranged them in a drawer, he turned and pointed to Mara with a screwdriver. “What I don’t understand is how you can transport a container consisting of the ephemeral substance of this realm into the physical one without it losing its cohesion and releasing its occupant. How have you accounted for that? Come to think of it, when you are returne
