He doesn’t respond. He needs a moment to let that sink in.

“Understand,” he says in low notes. “Thank. I now know why I not die.”

I try to imagine the desperation of his people. With a space program far behind Earth’s, no knowledge of what’s outside, and still making an interstellar ship in a bid to save their race.

No different from my situation, I guess. I just have a little more technology.

“Radiation is here too,” I say. “Stay in your workshop as much as you can.”

“Yes.”

“Bring Astrophage to this tunnel and put it on the wall.” “Yes. You do same.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Why not, question?”

Because it doesn’t matter if I get cancer. I’m going to die here anyway. But I don’t want to explain that I’m on a suicide mission right now. The conversation’s been pretty heavy already. So Ill tell him a half-truth.