"You intending to take a space walk?" Kovacs asks, still not making any move to help. The guy had two fucking legs and his guts weren't falling out. He could do his own shit. Kovacs wasn't going to go around helping people even after what had just happened to him. He was not changed, he was not different, he was just angry.

"Breathing vacuum's really going to help you," he remarks, glancing around. "If it doesn't make your head explode first, you'll end up throwing up all your helmet and choking to death."

Cheery.

"Why don't you just find a room to die in?" he suggests.