I shot an arrow toward the sky, It hit a white cloud floating by. The clould fell dying to the shore, I don’t shoot arrows anymore. —Shel Silverstein, “Arrows” -1- “Sir, are you seeing this?” “You got the spyglass, Calamity. What’s ‘this?’ ” “Sorry, sir, ” Palemst Jain said. “The bandits aren’t retreating past that …