"That does not look like the face of someone who plans to stop needling me," says Stalas.

"It's unfortunate that you're a version of Miles I don't know as well and you're carrying deadly weapons and I'm in a mood," says Mark. "Two of the three and this would be easier."

"Has it occurred to you," Miles asks rhetorically, "that you are very fucked up?"

"Daily."

"How about I help Stalas navigate the terrifying world of the outdoors back to the bar, and then there will not be a Miles with deadly weapons around Mark, assuming Miles-Miles is willing to assume this won't get him killed?"

"Oh, I wouldn't try to kill Miles unless I thought he could get me first," says Mark.

"It's weird how reassuring I find that statement. It's weird how comprehensible I find that statement," says Miles. "There's a definite Mark-logic to it."

"I'm glad someone understands. What do we think of my plan, then?"

"Yes."

"I think I'm slightly annoyed about that."

"Well, I'm glad it's only slight."

"It's largely washed out by how annoyed I am about the door."

"It should come back soon. I'm probably going to be camped out in here for days regardless, myself."

"I react badly to confinement."

"Do distractions help?"

"Depends. Did you have a distraction in mind?"

"Bar has all of the books. Where 'all' means 'all from all the worlds that have ever touched this place'. That's my distraction for the time being, but I could think of more, probably."

"...All right," says Mark. He approaches the bar. "Can I have a book?"

Linya smiles too.