You know what to do?”
“Wander around,” I said. “Until I spot a self-assembled whangdoodle from the Foggy depths.

Did you just call me ‘sweetie’?” I asked.
She shoved my shoulder. “No.

With a silent order, I urged Snout forward—but he veered away, charging toward Hazel instead. No, Snout! I thought. Toward the roof! He ignored me. That was the problem with a machine that obeyed your thoughts. Instead of doing what you said, it did what you wanted.

“The Predator !” Hazel shouted at me as I heaved toward the irrigation tower. “Stop the Predator !”

“I’m trying!” I yelled back. “I can’t!”
“Why not?”
“’Cause this stupid thing brought me to you instead.”
“Why?” Then she looked at my face again and said, “Aw, that’s sweet.”
I flushed. “Oh, shut up.

It was going to be our job to annoy someone?”
“I know—it’s a dream come true!

Well, the bad news,” Swedish said from the wheel, “is that Chess still thinks he’s funny.”
“What’s the good news?” Loretta asked, leaning on our little copper-tubed harpoon. “That Kodoc dropped a bomb on the city?

Uh, she said maybe your eyes matched the Fog like a synchronous magnetic field?”
“I don’t even know what language that is.