Wasn't born on Earth. Guess that was the trick of it.

[ even alluding to harlan's world makes his stomach clench just the tiniest bit before he regains the ironclad control over his body that he's had since quell and the envoys. ]

Must have been something in the air.

[ or it must have been quell, revolutionizing stack technology and giving everyone a shot at eternal life. ]

But, I absolutely can't space walk. That's gonna lead to a big mess.

[ and that big mess would just mean his stack would be lost to the stars, ready to be found by any person that came upon it. not ideal. ]

Anyway, as long as you or your shotgun toting friend don't shoot me in the head, I've got a shot at living for another two hundred and eighty four years. Or more.

So, let's not do that, deal?