Erin waves her glass vaguely. "This place isn't big on moving parts. Food doesn't rot, none of the machines have insides, the wine restocks itself from nowhere. A result without a process, y'know? I've dealt with effects with uh...uneven relationships with cause before, but if you want to know the mechanisms that's all Ms. Friday and last I heard she's not big on straight answers about it. I - well, actually." Erin taps out what's left of her cigar and leans back. "Something called the Erda is involved. It seems to have a relationship with communal desire, and it brings, well, you, but also the passengers and the packages we get. These cigars, for instance."