It sets Carver's teeth on edge to allow the distance to close like this, but he holds out the cigarette to allow the cherry to light, shielding it with a gloved hand. He takes a long drag, letting the burn settle into his lungs. It's been years since he's had a cigarette.

"Carver," he replies, watching Vander, watching the robots. "Begs the question of what they're planning to move."