Enlightenment, Will thought as the doctor turned to go further down the stairs, came in many forms. Archer sought it in genetics. For him, science seemed to be all that mattered. Will was already enlightened. You got enlightenment on the battlefield, overnight, in dark, damp places or freezing dry ones, seeing people die, walking over corpses. He may never have seen Vietnam but that only meant he found the same things in different places.
Sure, he hadn't cared. The disgust he should have felt was still slow to come, even twenty years after it had all ended. But he still knew more than some uppity prick with a degree in god only knew what. Biochemistry, was it? He kept going down the stairs until he got to the fourth floor landing and glanced over at Archer as the doctor continued down the stairs, probably totally unaware of how ridiculous he looked, naked and proud like that.
"You should be afraid of enlightenment," he said, not really caring if archer heard him. Then he turned and headed for his room and the empty blackness of sleep. Maybe a glass of something to help him along.