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talk to you about.”
    Baj related the bill of goods Hightower attempted to sell him on. It sounded wonderful, if you were a zombie: a peaceful meeting of the minds where X percent of the population would be kept as cattle for the undead to feed upon, and the rest of mankind was left alone to pursue their lives. Better yet! Given time, the two societies might integrate again and build a new future for the entire planet!
    I think we all rolled our eyes when we heard that. Shawn looked more like he wanted to hand back his dinner at a supersonic speed, but he managed to control the reflex with the sheer force of his willpower.
    Our friend had more to share, and we swallowed our disgust long enough to listen.
    “I must tell you, Baj, I was uncertain of the welcome I would receive were I to visit you. I am moved, deeply moved, by your hospitality and warmth.”
    “Well, you know, Mister Hightower, greeting guests in a civilized manner has been practiced and refined for thousands of years in India.” Baj reported this segment of the conversation with an insane, obsequious smile on his face, and I can only imagine what it had looked like during the original chat.
    His guest complimented him on his superb hospitality for a final time, and urged him to pass the regards along to Mister and Mrs. Sharma, Senior, if ever the opportunity presented itself.
    Bajali laughed heartily and replied, “It isn’t that different in India, you know. I will tell them you spoke well of the results of their hard labor. I suspect they will be pleased.”
    At this point in the visitation, Jayashri brought in the tea, poured them both a cup, inquired about lumps of sugar and milk before deftly stirring each cup, and retreated softly into the kitchen. She added, to us, that she found the nearest firearm as soon as the tea service was safely settled on the countertop.
    “She is... so graceful.” Hightower sipped the tea, still smiling.
    “She never ceases to amaze me. So, what brings you to my home? It has been quite a while since we last conversed. I believe you were on a flight to Baghdad at the time.”
    “Yes, I’d called you to get an update on the A-344 program. That’s why I’m here now, as a matter of fact. I would like you to continue your work on that project for me.”
    “I hardly have the facilities for such a thing, with the world changing as it has,” Bajali replied. As an aside to us, he explained that the mere mention of the A-344 program was enough to reveal how our neighbor planned to bring about his perfect world of coexistence.
    Hightower nodded at him, “I know. I still have all the equipment, materials, and data in a new location. All you have to do is come on board and we can finish A-344.”
    “May I ask why you would be interested in such a thing,” Bajali waved his hand idly in the air, “after you’ve gone through the change in your life?” The question was superfluous, really, because he knew full well what the answer would be. He simply wanted to soothe his soul over the truth, before he made the decision to try and kill his guest.
    “Let me tell you why,” and Hightower explained what was known about the virus, how it operates in the human host, and his plan to make a herd of human cattle for the zombie population.
    “Ah.” Bajali did not let his disgust show because he had predicted his work could be used in such a manner: selectively targeting and infecting a swath of the population. “I can see that you’ve given this the thought it deserves. Indeed, I can see how you have come to the conclusion this would bring stability to the situation, if not actual peace.”
    “I knew you would understand, Bajali. The big picture was never lost on you.”
    They sat quietly for some minutes, sipping tea.
    Baj told us he had truly expected some sort of threat to be delivered during those tea-laden moments. He was aware that in certain circles there was an unspoken rule that you never threaten the family of a man