Kovacs scoffs and doesn't answer for awhile, eyes fixated on the wall. Eventually he shifts, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his arms, almost mirroring Miller's position except his arms were much, much bigger.

"I don't know what the fuck they worshiped but we had a lot of religiously coded people back on Earth," Kovacs says, lips twisting, "which meant when they died, they were gone. Didn't get resleeved into a new body. Ultimate death sentence."

Fucking waste of the tech, if you asked Kovacs. The stacks were there for a reason, fucking use them. "Guess they saw potential immortality as a sin against whatever they put their faith in. But I doubt that fucker cared. He's dead. You dying at the age of sixty instead of two hundred and sixty isn't noble. It's dumb."