“All we know is that they haven’t hurt anyone yet. And I know how that sounds, Peter. Believe me, I do. But I also know that the government have got a job on their hands keeping their civilians safe. And, yes, I also know that the Returnees are civilians too, who, if what happened to them over at your place is anything to go by, need protection more than anyone else. I know all these things. I know all these things and I don’t have the answers. Not a damned single one of ’em. I just have a flask of coffee and a lot of people to keep happy and safe here while we try and figure it all out.”

Peter stroked the back of his hand, finding strange comfort in that touch, even though it was only his own, and the pair of them sat in silence looking out over the lot. The smile on the little dancing girl didn’t fade once.

“She’s from Hawaii,” said the sheriff watching him. “Well, that thing’s probably from China but you get the idea.”

“Hawaii’s in the sea, right?”

“That’s right, son. A whole bunch of islands out there in the Pacific. They were the last territory to become part of the United States.”

“What united them? The states, I mean.”

“Oh, the same stuff that usually unites places.”

“Love?”

The sheriff let out a short laugh. “War.”

Peter looked away, feeling the familiar prickle of embarrassment to have been the one not to have understood the joke. But the sheriff cleared his throat, as if the shame at having found amusement in a word as precious as love was all his.

“War from other countries?” Peter asked after a while.

The sheriff toyed with his handlebar moustache like that would’ve at least made sense somehow. “No, just war,” he said. “War among ourselves. There were territories still left outside of the United States that the United States wanted, so we did what we always do. We came along and took ’em.”

“Like my people did to Lake Wranglestone.”

“I guess.” Then, “Yes, son. Something like that.”

Peter blew on the coffee to cool it and took a sip. It tasted bitter. Not half as nice as he’d expected it to, given that half the world had been taken over by coffee shops, before. But that many people couldn’t be wrong, he decided, so he took another sip and tried to find a way into liking it.

“Now,” said the sheriff, screwing the cap back on. “Teddy likes you.”

“Oh.”

“And there’s no point me being coy on the matter, so I hope you can forgive his poor old dad for saying so.”

“Yes, but—”