Likewise, it's not hard to glean the meaning of squit, and she's exactly right. It's a piece of squit indeed.

He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. "I've met Webmind already. Pretty much told me that the kind of network I'm used to isn't going happen around here. The train's too traumatized, apparently." Okay, that's probably not the fairest or most nuanced interpretation of what Webmind had actually told him, but he's not super inclined to charity right now.

"Besides, the servers that host my cloud are all back home. Asking for a wireless link to another dimension is probably too much." He leans heavily against the worktable, for a moment looking distant and grim-- no. He shakes the melancholy off and looks back at Eight. "Thanks for the tip anyway, though. Appreciate it."