The cast-iron roar was suddenly broken off. I was as red as a piece of iron on an anvil, under the moulding sledgehammer. This seemed to have stopped for a second, hanging in air, and I waited, waited⁠ ⁠… until suddenly:

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-two.”

“Just double the age, and as simple as at sixteen! Listen. Is it possible that it really never occurred to you that they (we do not yet know their names but I am certain you will disclose them to us), that they were interested in you only as the Builder of the Integral ? only in order to be able through the use of you⁠—”