I jandered through the smoke and haze, and finally located Mr. Johnson. It was no wonder Andrea had spotted him so easily. He stood out like a vulture in a canary cage. His boring blue pinstripes and slicked-back hair were drawing snickers from some of the younger deckers, who were too inexperienced to realize how dangerous even the lowest-ranking company drone can be. He did look oily as a greased guttersnake.