Thoughts about the second part of the sentence, and how he might end up 
serving it, did not come back to him until he was halfway back across the 
Causeway, borne swiftly on autoskates, the wind keening through the fabric of 
his trousers and inflaming the laceration placed neatly across his buttocks, 
like the track of a router. This time, he was surrounded by a flock of 
hornet-size aerostats flying in an
ellipsoidal formation all around him, hissing gently and invisibly through the 
night and waiting for an excuse to swarm.