The bartenders here are many and varied, all shades, shapes, colors and the like. One of them--the one coming down to where Malcolm is sitting--greets him with a gentle smile as he leans into the bar, sleeves rolled up and hair in a long plait down his back.

"Hello there. Welcome to 4713, I'm Ben." Ganymede looks and sounds like he could be anyone, accent unplaceable though there are hints of everywhere in it, maybe twenty-five at the very top end of the guessable age range. "What can I get for you?"