The Cad's hand was held high and he forgot his troubled stomach as he smirked.  If Melissa remembered that much, she'd remember how his hand went up... every time the swarms had passed and the chief asked that question.<br/><br/>And as the cheers arose around him, he let his hand drop and smiled.  If Melissa was right, he might live to see the end of humanity's troubles.  And what would he do then?  What did people do before the mindkillers came?  In all his tinkering and investigating, he never could definitively answer that.  He supposed they did much of the same things they were doing now: hunting, tending plants, making babies... but then there were all the artifacts, and obviously with them came the people who thought of them, and the people who made them.  Getting back to that level would be hard.  It would take time.  He might not live to see those days reborn.  But today, he would be certain to work hard, and make sure a child with the name "Cadester" would be present when those days finally came.<br/><br/>Then Melissa brought him back to the present, mentioning food.  His stomach's lust returned and he frowned, trying to forget the noises it was making.  Her eyes were on him.  He smirked, drowning out the groans with the memories of their time together.  She had sighed like a mourning dove.  He'd adored that sound.<br/><br/>When Melissa gave her orders and left the balcony, the Cad made his way to the manor's door, hoping to catch her as she came out.  His stomach was complaining in earnest, softly, but with that dull ache that signaled a more benign, subtle form of hunger.  He had been on a hunt once or twice before; he'd lost count, of course, since numbers lost their meaning after every mindkiller strike.  But he wanted to speak with Melissa, see how much she remembered... and find out if she was willing to let a valuable Master Breeder leave the compound to sate his deep, unknowable desires.