"You're right. Such an unanchored ship of a place..." He took his arm from hers to tuck it instead about her waist, pressing their sides together, as if he could warm her through bodyheat. He hadn't been down to the lower levels before; stared in fascination at the candy-coloured glow of neon, so strange and sickly-bright he could almost taste it along with the sugary chymical flavours of the air.

He paused a moment, frowned, and asked, "Sorry. Purveyor of what, did you say?"