“Better than I felt in the lab,” he replied. “It’s no fun living under a microscope. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve been through for my sake.”
“We’re not free yet,” Belilo said. “Not by a long shot.” She proceeded to tell him, with occasional asides from Hawker and Symington, the story of their escape and flight, and their current predicament.
Green coughed harshly and settled back on his couch. “A culture of decadence….”
His voice drifted off, and for a few moments his friends were afraid he’d drifted back into semi-consciousness. But he was only thinking; the look of intelligence never wavered in his eyes.
“A world that’s conquered both poverty and death,” he mused aloud at last, “must be decadent beyond our ability to imagine. There’s no need to work, no challenge to living
