"I wonder how they do it." Sam paused, took a long sip, and then added, "I mean, if it was something back home, it'd probably give you cancer or make your hair fall out or something."

The future was awesome.

And the drink was pretty awesome, too. Kind of citrusy, but not quite, because there was something else in there that he wasn't even sure how to describe the taste of, which probably meant it was from some other planet and he'd be lucky to pronounce it right. Whatever it was, it was good. And, he assumed, responsible for the kind of warm feeling he got from drinking it.

(It would never occur to him that it might be the synthehol's fault, because Sam didn't think he'd ordered anything that had booze in it. Mistakes were made.)