"Got sumpin, doc, huh?"
"I'm sorry, Bill," said Lang. "I'll bring you some candy next time."
The moron gave an animal sigh and shambled back. On the way, he passed a sleeping woman, and edged toward her with a grunt. Lang closed the door.
There was another stillness.
"Well," said Lang, "now you've seen it."
"You mean ... you don't mean immortality makes you like that?"
"Oh, no. Not at all. But my predecessors chose low-grade stock on purpose. Remember those monkeys. How long do you think a normal human could remain sane, cooped up in a little cave like this and never daring to leave it? That's the only way to be immortal, you know. And how much of the race could be given such elaborate care, even if they could stand it? Only a small percentage. Nor would they live forever—they're already contaminated, they were born radioactive. And whatever happens, who's going to remain outside and keep the apparatus in order?"
Radek nodded. His neck felt stiff, and within the airsuit he stank with sweat. "I've got the idea."
"And yet—if the facts were known—if my questions had to be answered—how long do you think a society like ours would survive?"
Radek tried to speak, but his tongue was too dry.