"Nah," George told Quentin, "you're not dead. You're just...comatose right now. Still breathing and everything."
"Yeah, you can walk through the wall, but you walk on the floor. You can sit in a diner and lean your elbows on the table, but you can't touch the food," George added, frowning at the memory. "Don't ask me how or why, it doesn't make any fucking sense, but I don't make the rules."
Quentin vanished through the wall, was gone briefly, then popped back out to make his report. "Fortifying the wiring?" George repeated. "Crap. They're probably building some nefarious machine that needs a lot of power."
She turned to one of the security guards. "Hey, you! Where's the breaker box for this place?"
"What? Why?"
George repeated what Quentin had told her. "I think we should turn off the power to the building," George said.
"I can't do that!" the guard said.
"Really?" George asked. She gestured at the casino floor. Half the one-armed bandit machines had vanished, and the others were...melting. Replicators were crawling on the ceiling, eating the surveillance cameras. "What have you got to lose? And do you really want to wait and see what they're gonna do with whatever they're building in there?"
The guard looked around and his expression hardened. "I sure as hell don't!"