Rafe heard only the whisper of his clothing, his own deepened breaths. Kepta made no sound at all, except to talk to him from time to time down the winding hall: "Tired?" Kepta asked. "Does that matter? You pushed me along this way once, with the lights. What were you after, then?” "Reactions," Kepta said. He strode on a few more limping steps. "Like now?” A few steps more. "No," Kepta said. "Now I know exactly what you'll do.” He looked at Kepta, but Kepta did not, seemingly, look his way. "You're limited," Rafe asked him, the question flashing to his mind, "to one vantage point? To that shape? Those eyes?” "No," Kepta said again. "Physically-where are you?” Silence. "Makes you nervous?