He catches the attention. He catches the longing, and files it away as useful.

"Desperation can breed innovation," he says, and means it so much more deeply than he lets show in the casual tilt of his shoulders. "It can at least breed willingness to follow along when someone gets it really right. And we," he snaps his fingers between them, quirks the edge of his mouth in what is nearly a smile, "can make all the difference.

"The society may be dying. But then in come the Sleepers, each of us specialized in a field that barely exists. Each of us immortal. The timing's so convenient you could chalk it up to divine benevolence."