“The food was the usual highly flavoured stuff; the flavour was artificial and the foods were packed with preservatives. Since they had been chemically grown in the first place, the whole meal, like every meal, was artificial, and I swallowed a couple of vitamin pills afterwards, just to humour my metabolism. My metabolism still felt somewhat shaky; despite the sedative Thunderpeck had given me, I had not slept, so engrossed was I in the letters I had found on the dead man. There were only six o...f them, six letters and a telegram. They were all from a girl who signed herself Justine. They were love letters. Well, they weren’t entirely love letters. Much of them was taken up with political matters, and about the various nations of Africa. I have never understood any politics, much less the complex African variety. I skipped those bits. The world and its nations were at peace at that time. Many harsh things could be said against our bleak social system, but to have peace was worth a great deal; that I often said.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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