“I think this blood is mine,” says Escrow.

Vairocana silently tosses the bent lead pipe. Escrow catches it and follows the smeared trail back into the bathroom stall where Escrow is hiding.

“You’re not what you think you are,” gasps Escrow.

Escrow smirks. “On the contrary,” he says.

“I’ve been thinking about… mortality, in here,” whispers Escrow, hands pressed to his bleeding belly. “And I do believe in reincarnation, right? I mean, we do, you know that–so why the braintaps, the cloning? Why not leave it to the metaphysical?”

“Because sometimes reincarnation needs help,” says Escrow, and raises the pipe.

Brendan and Stephen ignite their jetpacks and blast away from the plummeting, burning aircraft carrier.

“Burn hard!” snaps Stephen. “If we don’t break every speed record known to man, we’ll be too late to save President McDonnell!”

“And her orphan puppy farm,” agrees Brendan grimly. “Endangered orphan puppy. N-nuns.”

Stephen sighs. “Okay, just–cut it.”

The sky flickers to flat green; winches lower them to the floor. “Look, I’m no good at action improv!” says Brendan, unbuckling his harness.

“Well,” says Stephen reluctantly, “there’s always action romance improv.”

Brendan grabs him and dips him low. “Now you’re talkin’,” he breathes.

“I can’t believe it’s not Buddha,” says Colleen.

“The Buddha,” says Bligh, “it’s a title, you extremely white person.”

“Sorry.”

They watch for a while.

“But no,” Bligh mutters, “the real Buddha is probably not filled with robot bears.”

They’re not big bears, but there are dozens of them climbing out of the bronze Vairocana’s mouth, and they’ve got buzzsaws. They can’t climb; Colleen and Bligh are safe clinging to the pagoda ledge. Most of the other tourists are already dismembered. The bears are aligning their limbs in patterns.

“Think it means something?” Colleen squints.

“It’s kanji,” says Bligh. “For assholes.“