Paranoia was more than fear. Fear is when your heart rises and your hackles tense and mind is racing, throwing incomprehensible babble at you. But paranoia is when you can't even babble. Foaly knew paranoia well. His life, his livelihood was based on his paranoia, that somewhere, somehow, some pixie hacker or some obsessed human (Foaly's mind always drifted to Artemis when he thought about obsessive humans, though he was not quite sure why.) was digging through his files, his security.
Compulsively, he ran a system scan of Haven for the sixth time in an hour, his fingers furtively tapping on his keyboard and his eyes darting over the files flashing across his monitor.
Holly frowned, looking at Artemis. "You think we should tell Foaly about the monitoring system you put in his computer?"
Artemis watched Foaly fidget from his laptop.
"Nah."
I'm-not-watching-you
-theweepingblade