I’ll cut you a deal, Chie says to the mice. I’ll come back and see you this evening if you get on with learning to fly. You can’t keep clinging to the bars of the cage for the rest of the time you have, which isn’t long I must tell you. You’re going to crash into the Atlantic Ocean in a couple of months, and if you survive that you’ll then be analysed in a lab and swiftly sacrificed to science. Got to let go, might as well do it now.
