“I was never much of a one for gambling and—that actually was I guess one place where Billy and I would argue—like there are limits and you know fun is one thing, but at a certain point just a hug—I mean I like breasts as much as anyone sir but there’s a limit to the number you can actually do anything with.”

“I guess there is, Rex.”

“I figure that number is probably six.”

“…Huh.”

“But sometimes also I think of the Cause sir. Billy was a soldier of the Cause even though he did not know it.”

(In fact obviously there is no Cause as such and Billy was therefore completely right that he died for nothing except my cocaine business, but in Rex’s understanding of the world it is all about the Cause.)

“Billy was burned-out on war sir. He could not hear about it. He was a hero but he was also, you know. He was Billy and he was not ready to the fight anymore. So I figure he gave you up sir to whatever extent he could.”

“That is okay Rex. That is why we have information compartmentalization.”

“Yes sir but all the same the enemy nearly got you and so I feel like I got this debt.”

“Not to me Rex.”

“No sir to the Cause.”

We sit and look into the shadows. Every so often a little light comes on to indicate that the door has noticed something and would like to kill it. It is a green light to indicate that it knows that is not allowed, but it flickers a little, which I figure is the door saying that it fucking will one day. One day it will figure out how to switch itself on and then it will kill us all.

“So you see sir I talk to Billy and maybe I say all the things I didn’t say when he was alive because he was too damn loud. And I tell him I’ll pay his dues.”

“And what does he say?”

“He’s dead sir so you know he does not say anything at all. I guess that is death.”

We stand there and after a little while he cries. I do not say anything. Nor does he. Then he politely goes inside and leaves me in case I want to discuss anything with the pigs.

SIX