“And he actually is a scientist?”
“Well,”
Johnson continued to chew, talking around the incipient bolus. “He doesn’t have
the title of ‘doctor,’ but he does run a lab.”
“Interesting,”
commented Commensurion. He took up his
plate again. Unlike Johnson, he had
chosen only a single sausage ball. The
rest of his plate was occupied by raw vegetables and a dollop of ranch
dressing. “He sounds like a medieval or
renaissance scientist, one doing it independently of academia, doing it for his
own satisfaction.”
Johnson swallowed. He took a sip of the punch. It was too tart, as all punch is.
Johnson swallowed. He took a sip of the punch. It was too tart, as all punch is.
