cute little she-wraith

after the ghost swap-meet had been going for a few months the excitement settled down ....Lone Port had been a Spacebook sensation long enough....now it was all just another business, with paid ads scrolling on sidebars of pad screens everywhere......the former population of our desert dirt ball planet sold and traded off a lot of stuff....some cruise liners visited our systems, dropping down tourists and newscasters and con men....you get the picture....but pretty soon most of the good stuff was gone....the ancient art works went for big bucks, but now all the wraiths had to offer at their booths were old pots and pans and bags of used clouthing, not interesting any longer. But a lot of graduate students were still hanging around....seems like every xenohistory department in a thousand universities was getting papers submitted about the Ghosts of a Great Empire.....the wraith race had once upon a time been a thriving interstellar culture....back when dinosaurs roamed Earth, around then anyway....but they as a people had gotten too big for their britches, you might say....they tried to pull their whole population up by their boot straps to god-hood...a mass transendence that backfired on them....my little she-wraith who came back out to my cabin in the flats with me one night has told me the whole sorry story....