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Paulie, however, was not from his sect. So it was bit strange when the lad caught up to him on his way back to camp and struck up a conversation.

It started off with awkward pleasantries mixed with apologies. The boy seemed to be trying to figure out if Caster was upset with him for questioning Morgunov's genius.

He was.

But he also wasn't going to let that show. Trivial things were for trivial people. Until they were repeated and grew into non-trivial things.

Either way, Caster was ready to move past it, for now. "What do you want, Paulie?" he said.

"Ah, er, I just wanted to talk to you privately," said Paulie. "It's just, like, I know those other guys mean well 'n all, but I don't think they get it. They've given up, and they won't be happy until I do the same."

That wasn't it at all, Caster thought. They weren't concerned with their own happiness. They were trying to preserve what was left of Paulie's. The kid probably wouldn't be able to see that, no matter what anyone said to him, though.

Such was youth.

Caster kept those thoughts to himself. The boy had obviously come to him because he was looking for someone who wouldn't try to rain on his parade. It was a little obnoxious, but Caster supposed he could at least hear him out. There was still quite a long stretch of ruined town ahead of them, so there wasn't much harm in filling it with a pointless conversation.

And besides, the slow, grueling march of time would do plenty of enthusiasm-crushing without any help from himself, Caster felt.

"You were quieter than them," said Paulie. "I thought maybe you were... of a different mind, I guess. More open, y'know?"

"Open to what, precisely?"

"Possibilities. Listen, I... I've been... uh..."

Caster gave him a look, just waiting. Honestly, he already knew everything Paulie might say. But why was the kid getting so hesitant all of a sudden? Nerves? Paulie had never struck him as a nervous speaker.