The idea of profit didn't even enter Gaeta's mind, and there's a blink of confusion when Tayrey brings it up. Cubits haven't been good for anything except Triad chips for years. There's no need for wealth; just something to keep his mind and his hands busy.

But the sentiment's appreciated -- more than appreciated, really -- and he finds himself brightening further. "We will," he agrees. "Draftsman; that might be fun, actually. I, uh -- " he chuckles, faintly self-deprecating, "I had a phase where I wanted to be an architect as a kid. Among about a hundred different phases, but that one managed to stick for longer than a month. Of course, I also thought the height of architectural genius was restaurants shaped like food, so my brilliant designs might not go over so well here."

(A pang, then, as he thinks of Gaius, smoking and drinking with him on his last night. How Gaius let him ramble for hours without interruption; how, despite everything, Gaeta felt more at peace than he'd felt in years.)