Milo, in the box, to Warren: “I’d say we’re fouling up their plans pretty nicely.”

The train angled crookedly on the track as though a huge child had left it in favor of something else. Its bullet-front was broken by a single small light, giving it the appearance of a cyclopean worm.

No one had made a move from inside the train. Not a peep.

“Do you wait them out?” asked Cleavage.

“This is reverse chicken,” said Kichi. “They’re waiting on us.”

“The whites of our eyes?” she said.

“Yes.”

“Fortunately, we have breach goggles.”

“Move in.”

~~~

“Milo’s in a box. They’ve got it out in the open, guarded. Adam’s here,” said Ramses.

“Being a dick?” asked Desiree.

“Yes. The minor functionary’s here looking for Buford. Adam and Eve don’t give a damn about Buford. Only one thing would bring them here at this particular time, and Eve wasn’t at their camp,” said Ramses. “Yvonne, Neon, you with me?” Ramses asked. “I know things are a bit twisty.”

“Actually, way ahead of you,” said Neon. “What big ticket item would attract the big guns with the quickness?”

“Gigantic psychic fish,” said Yvonne.

“All right. Eve’s underwater. Do we go after her?” said Neon.

“Uh uh,” said Yvonne.

“No?” said Neon.

“No,” said Yvonne, “because from the way everybody’s sphincters are tight, she’d kill every last one of us, am I right?”

Ramses nodded.

“I’m feeling how every time we confab,” said Yvonne, “the situation’s fucked factor increases. Have we hit end game?”

“Giving up is never an option,” said Smoove.

“But—” said Neon.

“We don’t give up,” Ramses said simply.

“Dying with honor is well and good except for the dying part,” said Yvonne. “Soldiers die and get replaced; commanders live on. The ones who keep starting shit always live on. Nothing changes.”

“It would take three years for all life on this planet to be completely and irrevocably enslaved if we stopped,” said Ramses. “I’ve done the math.”

“Then what do we do? You’re up against someone you can’t beat, who in turn is against something you can’t fight, wrapped up in—” Yvonne threw her hands up in frustration to encapsulate the entire world. “What do we do?”

“We get polite,” he said.

“Meaning?”

“Hold the door open and let everyone through.”