“What does freedom even mean? You’d still be tied to your moldy old skull, wouldn’t you, even if you did escape the jar? Say I let you out. What would you do?” “I’d flit about. Stretch my plasm. Might strangle Cubbins. Carry out a spot of casual ghost-touch, now and again. Just simple hobbies. It would be a darn sight more enjoyable than sitting here.” I grinned at it. “You make your case so well,”
