In the future and in the past, money mattered---the present seemed to be a singular exception. As Sam had observed, the situation on Cybertron was a remarkably comfortable one for 'marooned in space'; being for the first time without financial woes was a seemingly-small but significant upside.

"Oh, osti." The adept looked disconcerted as she swore, though the expression was soon eclipsed by faint dismay, and then curious concern. "No sweet Elvises for us, then. Is it enough if you avoid eating anything with peanuts in, or are you the clear-the-classroom kind of allergic? I have half a jar of peanut butter in the cupboard right now, word of warning."