Iverson drags his trembling hand across his face and breathes in the cold night air, looking up at the goddamn infinite stars twinkling at him like there's nothing wrong, like they aren't on the brink of extinction as a species at the hands of an alien madman.

Sometimes he wonders if this is all there is out there, countless lethal alien species circling this stupid little planet like sharks in the water, smelling every weakness like a drop of blood in the ocean, and it makes him furious because there's nothing but weaknesses here, the whole planet like a wounded whale with its belly up and waiting to get devoured.

And then Iverson thinks, there was that blue lion, the giant robot that didn't attack them, the one that appeared out of nowhere and fled away just as fast, and wasn't it just the most amazing coincidence that five people disappeared along with it, those three hapless children and that boy from the desert and the Garrison's very own golden boy, all without a trace, and fuck it, maybe the stars have a reason to look so happy tonight, maybe they all do, if not today then maybe tomorrow.