"You'd rather stay with us and perhaps be exposed to the Fever?"
"Okay, okay!"
When his footsteps had died away, David leaned forward.
"We've done our best. Another month or so and we should be completely ready for our retirement act."
"If we have a month," said Fauré.
David grinned. "Well, if our time runs out, at least we'll go down fighting. You know all your lines, your props are ready, the plot is worked out, and we can slip into our makeup in an instant—provided the audience shows up."
"You're getting to be quite a joker, David," said Karl. "What if the audience comes around to the stage door?"
"Then we'll try to receive him properly. Our Leader is a man of iron, but I doubt that he's immortal."
They heard the approaching guard.
"I'm sure you'll benefit from your holiday," David went on. "That last checkup showed an antibody titer entirely too high for safety."