He'd seen pins whose meaning he wasn't certain of, on other people's berets, a sword and shield the main one. Given Aguilar's fixation on results, and on the prisoners' proving their worth, Mello had to wonder if they'd be seeing a weeding-out of those who hadn't faced ordeals deemed worthy of pins. He was both disturbed and strangely comforted by that tacit admission of what really went on here. The face of evil showing itself, but when it did, at least you knew what you were dealing with. Mello had always counted hypocrisy as one of the worst sins; he'd never tried to act as if he were anything other than what he was.
"I know I pissed them off." He looked back again, giving Mordio a skewed grin meant to show he was proud of this, and he was; he'd done it deliberately. "This morning. I refused to clean."
He looked over the railing as he walked along beside it, and held up a finger. There was... something down there, where the sun room should have been, an undulating, dark mass, and he spoke quietly when he spoke again. "What the hell's that?"