"Mm, I will admit most of them are not up to my personal standards," says Gus with good humor. "There's a great deal that would be different if it were up to me." He fixes his eyes on Rush, his smile and his falsified warmth cooling a bit. "But there were only two of you. Flying awfully close to the sun, I'd say."

He takes a step closer. It hasn't been very difficult to pin down the man's various discomforts - he is riddled with them, it seems - and so Rush may be able to perceive an incipient invasion of his personal space. Gus moves slowly, takes his time. Very, very patient.

"You must have known your little enterprise had an expiration date."