"Oh," Jonathon said. "Well, good. I want to get that bastard Michaelson. There must be a connection between him and Dougan Rose." Jonathon stood to go, then looked at the pale human in black denim. "Grids," he said, "I may not like you, but I need your help. Are you with me?" Grids stood as well. "All the way," he whispered, almost to himself.