"I'm well aware of that," said Dalgetty.
"Your phrasing was rather unfriendly," said Bancroft. "What you don't appreciate is the revolting stagnation and cynicism of this age."
"Now you're using the loaded words," said Dalgetty. "Facts just are. There's no use passing moral judgments on reality, the only thing you can do is try to change it."
"Yes," said Bancroft. "All right then, we're trying. Do you want to help us?"
"You could beat the hell out of me," said Dalgetty, "but it wouldn't teach you a science that it takes years to learn."
"No, but we'd know just what you have and where to find it. We have some good brains on our side. Given your data and equations they can figure it out." The pale eyes grew wholly chill. "You don't seem to appreciate your situation. You're a prisoner, understand?"
Dalgetty braced his muscles. He didn't reply.
Bancroft sighed. "Bring him in," he said.
One of the guards went out. Dalgetty's heart stumbled. Dad, he thought. It was anguish in him. Casimir walked over to stand in front of him. Her eyes searched his.
"Don't be a fool," she said. "It hurts worse than you know. Tell us."