Again, Harrow has to fight down the panic that claws at her throat when he looks at her, his stare not as intense and flaying as it had been in the River--how God takes, and takes, and takes--but still harder than it should be to withstand. "You started to," she says. "We began to talk about the work, whether I had done it...correctly. Adhered to the theorem you had begun to work out, and had confidence I could finish. But we were interrupted."

She takes a breath, unable to turn away from the focus of the Warden's clear and lambent eyes. "Unbeknownst to me, I brought something into your projection. Something dangerous."