"Of course," said Lev, adjusting the presentation of the eggs with a clean steel spatula. "We’re not in the dark ages. But never to excess. Never to the point of intoxication. The laminates see to that. They metabolize it differently. Between that and the cognitive therapy module, he’s doing very well." He came to the table, a white plate in either hand. "Ash’s Medici says you’re not doing well, Wilf. Not at all." He put one plate in front of Netherton, the other opposite, and took a seat.