"And I agree," Dougan said. "Now, scan these wiz Artemis Nightgliders." He rolled open the back of the truck. "Four of them with remote ops package. They can be slaved to mine so that I can fly us out. Maria puts us under an illusion and we fly silent as a desert night." Maurice and Bob Henry crowded in for a closer look, smiles lighting up on their big dumb faces. "Keep treating us this well," Maurice said. "And we’ll have this slag geeked, skinned, and spitted before you can say ‘Dunklezahn is dead.’ "