His eyebrows raised, and he looked not at me, but up at the ceiling.

“That is AS as you know it today,” he said at last. “But in twenty years time, or thirty, who knows? Do you not have faith in science? Science advances.”

“And sometimes, it retreats. As you say, who knows? In twenty years, civilization itself may collapse. In thirty years, the world could be unrecognizable. “

I make no claim of prophecy with those statements. I was just making conversation, keeping my mind away from the subject of the close of day and the beginning of endless night.

Father Diaz, a Jesuit by training if ever I saw one, did not allow himself to be diverted. “Science advances,” he repeated. “You are a logical man, Dr. Guest. You understand the odds. On the one hand, we have possible progress in AS that grants you a chance — albeit a small one — of living through your entire sentence and beyond. On the other hand, without some kind of negotiated settlement you face mandated judicial sleep until your body expires of natural old age.”

On most matters I was, as he said, a logical man. I was also a man with no alternative offer. At the very least, I would see this through the next stage.

I nodded. “Let us obtain writing materials.”

“There are others?”

“There are. Three, as you surmised. I will provide you with names, and with locations, and with dates.”

I had my own agenda. Father Diaz was tolerable company. If he left, I would be open to invasion by others more doubtfully acceptable.