He's just glad to see she's not shivering on a threadbare mattress. She's got blankets, more than he does, and she seems comfortable. Recovering. Safe. It's more than he could ask for.

"You been here about as long as me," he says, rueful. They've been here for how long, not knowing who was out there waiting for them? What a goddamn joke. He doesn't dwell on it, or he'll break something.

"Yeah," he says, "escaped. Nearly got killed doin' it."

He'll tell her about the fast-penta, about the prison cell and what the Cetas know. He just won't do it tonight. The poor girl deserves some goddamn peace of mind.