Now there's an interesting idea. He tilts his head, both at the notion, and at the easy way the young girl brings up something such as a -- well, a wormhole, is what they call it now. A door that opens into another place.

Then again, Darrow itself is such a place, isn't it? Only one without doors, quite.

"I don't think there are many ways to get outside the city," he muses, "but if there were, they'd have to be quite hidden. Have you -- much experience with such doors?"

He lifts his hand away: he may not be bothered by a few drones attacking him, but a whole hive will certainly harm the girl. Funny, he thinks to himself, how long it's been since he's used those terms to actually refer to bees. "It's real enough, anyway," he adds, lifting his finger so that she can see the glisten of honey left behind on his finger.