“And hither and thither fly--Mere puppets they, who come and go, At bidding of vast formless things, that shift the scenery to and fro.'"His voice was hushed and whispery in the earphones. "Mere puppets," he repeated. "It's Edgar Allen Poe.""So are we the vast formless things?""Yep."I grinned up at him. "Are you calling me fat and unshapely?"His low laugh tickled my ears. "Quite the contrary," he said. "Jacob can be vast, and I shall be formless. Your form is very pleasing.”