"Right!" Randy says, a little too forcefully—he’s feeling desperate for a change in subject. The whole Kepler/Epiphyte/Semper Marine thing is stressful enough all by itself, and the last thing he needs is to be hanging around with people who believe it is nothing more than a skirmish in a war to decide the fate of the Free World—a preliminary round of the Apocalypse. Avi’s obsession with the Holocaust seemed fine to Randy as long as Holocausts were things that happened long ago or far away—being personally involved in one is something Randy can do without. He should have stayed in Seattle. But he didn’t, and so the next best thing for him is to limit the conversation to straightforward things like bars of gold.