“What warning color should we mark the airlock with?” asked the shipyard foreman.

“Salmon,” the ship designer replied. “It’s the most unmistakably caution-y color in the spectrum. Only a completely fool would see a salmon stripe on the wall and not recognize the danger he was in.”

“So not, like, yellow and black stripes, then? Because I was… I was thinking, I dunno, yellow and black stripes. Maybe one of those little klaxons?”

The designer stared the young foreman in the eyes, clasping his hands upon her shoulders as he shook his head. He shook knowingly, a man who’d seen a million ships over a million hours of work. It was a headshake that showed pity to his lesser, but calmly drew her to the correct path. The shake of a sage.

“Salmon,” he stated firmly.