"Depth perception." Miles looked for a reaction to his anatomi- cal doublette. There was none other than Homosoto's benign smile indicating no comprehension. "OK, never mind, I'll save it. At any rate, enough was enough. I gotta do something with my life." Miles had said his piece.
"In other words, money is your motivation?"
"Money doesn't hurt, sure. But, I need to do what I believe. Not that that means hurting my country, but if they don't listen to what makes sense, maybe it's best that they meet their worst enemy to get them off of their keesters." Miles was on a roll.
"Keesters?" Homosoto's naivete was amusing.
"Oops!" Miles exclaimed comically. "Butts, asses, fannies?" He patted his own which finally communicated the intention.
"Ah yes." Homosoto agreed. "So you feel you could best serve your country by attacking it?"
Miles only thought for a few seconds. "I guess you could put it that way. Sure."
"Mr. Foster, or should I say General Foster?" Miles beamed at the reference. "We shall march to success."
"Mr. Homosoto," Miles broke the pagential silence. "I would like to ask you the same question. Why?"
"I was wondering when you were going to ask me that Mr. Foster," Homosoto said with his grin intact. "Because, Mr. Foster, I am returning the favor."