Chiana head back down to the maintenance bay where the deconstruction device had been set up. It had been slightly difficult, but she had managed to get Berret safely back to his quarters with the help of Pilot and a few DRDs without the others finding out about what had happened to him. Now if Scorpius would only keep his big froth mouth shut about what he witnessed… but the girl didn't hold out much hope of that happening. Scorpius would cache what he knew, storing it away like priceless artwork. Then use the information to his advantage in a heartbeat, if it would benefit him or his desires in some way.

Dargo in particular would not be pleased if he became aware of the extent of the situation with Berret. The gray girl hated going behind her Luxan lover's back, it reminded her too much of what had happened with Jothee. As strong as the warrior was, the slowly growing trust between them was still fragile… the tiniest cause could break it she well knew.

Still, Chiana also knew she didn't have much choice. She wanted to find a way to help Berret, and she needed to find some way to buy herself time to think.

However, she hadn't a clue as to what she could possibly do to solve this problem.

Once safely inside his room, the ailing Shrike seemed to have slipped further into a psychological stupor, possibly even heading toward a full mental collapse. She had decided he needed to be forced to sleep and dosed him up with a derivative of Zhaan's sleep-mist. Well aware of his hyped-up metabolism, and just to be on the safe side, she doubled the normal prescribed amount to keep him down for a few arns while she tried to figure out what to do with the ex-Enforcer.

For something like the hundred time that solar day, the Nebari found herself wishing that the wise Delvian was still around. She knew that she could more than use the priestess's guidance about now. Instead all they had now was Wrinkles.

Reminded of the mad old woman, she made a mental note to track Noranti down and find out if she knew anything about the unknown substance Scorpius had commented on that Berret might have taken… or been slipped knowing that crazy old trill-bat. Berret had been none too gentle with the old woman on their first encounter, and Chiana wouldn't put it pass Noranti to dole out a little payback if given the opportunity.

Beside Berret's grave condition, she kept turning over their brief discussion in the warehouse. If the Shrike was right, the Black Syndicate was working against both sides of the coming conflict for it's own ends. She felt she had to tell someone, to let them take this immense burden from her shoulders. She was much too young of a narl to have knowledge of something this serious solely in her hands.

As soon as she was able, she decided, she would approach Rygel with what she knew. If anyone could understand the far-reaching implications and know what to do about them, it would be the Hynerian royal. She would just have to pick the proper time to speak with him, as anything to do with Berret wouldn't sit well with Rygel at the current moment.

The young Nebari sighed heavily and also placed that task on her growing mental list of 'things to do'.

The gray girl absently groaned to herself and rubbed at the side of her head with one gloved hand. "Why did things have to be so complicated?" she asked herself. She shouldn't have the yoke of interstellar war on her mind. She had enough trouble just keeping her own life running relatively smoothly. Juggling her renewed relationship with D'argo was a full time job in itself – without the having been blind part.

Now this thing with Berret, and she knew she wasn't thinking about his illness at that instant – knowing full well she meant her mixed feelings for him, whatever they were… was only mudding up the caloric pool that much more.

"I need a frelling vacation," she murmured out loud to herself.

"What was that, Chiana?" asked a jubilant voice from behind her.

The Nebari thief jumped at the question and turned to see Jool coming around the bend in the corridor to meet her. The red-haired woman wore a pleasant smile and an aura of tense expectation about her.

"Nothing," Chiana replied as she caught herself. "I was just thinking out loud to myself."

"Oh," said Jool, "Are you heading to the maintenance bay then? Scorpius is there now examining the alien medical device. We should know shortly how soon he'll think we can try restoring Aeryn and Crichton."

Chiana nodded absently. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe I'll stop by and see what's going on."

"Good," Joolushko replied with her bright smile. She then looked around quickly. "Where's Berret? I had thought he might be with you."

"He's… he's still in his quarter's," Chiana answered. "He really doesn't like to be around Scorpius much."

"Oh yes, I have noticed that… and the fact that he and most of the others don't get along as well. I personally had hoped to be able to talk to him some more about the Syndicate and Shrikes," Jool went on, "I find the subject very fascinating historically. Did you know that Shrikes were at one time…"

Chiana held up her hand to halt the Interion's coming homily.

"Later, Princess. I just don't think now's a good time to be bothering Berret. I think he might be resting anyway."

Jool twisted her lips into a slight frown and gave her head a single dip that made the metal bound braids in her hair jiggle. "That's a shame," she said. "You know history is one of my favorite subjects. I could sit and discuss it for arns if I were able."

"Yes, I know…"

"D'argo and I use to sit up all night at the dig on Arnessk discussing Luxan history and the Seven Wars Campaign. He even knew some things about the Ilanic Third Renaissances that I found very intriguing."

"I get the point," the gray girl said with surprising hint of growing jealousy.

The switch in emotion wasn't totally lost on the red-haired woman.

"Ah, Chiana. I didn't mean anything by that," Jool told her, "I'm aware that D'argo and you are back together. I have no intension of coming between you two. Its just that I'm glad to be back here as strange as that sounds… and I'm happy to see you all again."

"That's okay, Princess," the Nebari responded as the sudden twinge of envy faded. "Its just that last few weekens have been hard on everyone, and we're all tired and wired out. And we're worried about what's gonna happen with John and Aeryn."

"I understand. I know what you've all been through to get here, Pilot was gracious enough to fill me in on the story a few arns ago. I'm worried about Aeryn and Crichton too. I'll be the first to say that I really don't like Scorpius, but he is a brilliant scientist none-the-less. If anyone can figure out how to reconstruct them – it will be him."

"Yeah, I hope you're right," was all Chiana could say.

The girls looked at each other silently for a few awkward microts, Jool biting at her lower lip in thought. It was plainly obvious that the Interion woman had something else on her mind.

"Umm, Chiana… may I ask you something personal?" she finally inquired.

"Why not, saying 'no' never stopped you before… I can't guarantee you'll get an answer though, Princess."

The red-haired woman nodded her understanding.

"I don't mean to pry," she started. Before the shorter girl could stop herself, Chiana let slip a snort, which the Interion didn't hear or chose to ignore in the interest of keeping their conversation harmonious. "But I was wondering, what exactly is your relationship with the Shrike?"

"Why do you ask?" Chiana countered with narrowing eyes, her mood turning suddenly suspicious.

Joolushko's face turned to one of confidential empathy. "Come on, Chiana. I plainly see the extra tension between him and D'argo – it's over you… at least, mostly over you. I know you love D'argo, but I can see you feel something for Berret too. And you're not your normal self around Berret either."

"What's that's suppose to mean?" the gray girl abruptly demanded.

Jool held up one hand in a peaceful gesture. "I mean, I've merely observed that Berret is a attractive male and you act with… some 'unusual reserve' when he's around."

"You mean flirt? Throw myself at him? Act like a tralk?"

"Well," Jool replied, "I was trying to be more genteel about it, but yes. It's not your usual nature."

"Berret and I shared some hard times a while back," Chiana explained, "He's a friend."

"Yes, Noranti told me about how the two of you met, and about how he came looking for you and sprung you all from that prison when Aeryn and John got crystallized. And about how he's stayed with you until you got your sight back."

Chiana frowned deeply. "Wrinkles talks too much," she added.

Jool shrugged in reply. "I just wanted to say, it's okay."

"What's okay?" the Nebari asked in slight confusion.

"That you feel something for him, its okay that you do," the Interion continued. "It doesn't mean that you love D'argo any less. There's room in your heart for more than one… I at least know that much about you. I've watched you the last few days and saw you struggling with it… and thought you just might have needed to hear the words from somebody."

The thief gave her a weak smile.

"Since when did you become old and wise,' she asked flippantly to cover her uncertainty.

Jool returned the smile, but stronger and more confident.

"You try living on a planet populated with ancient priests, and not learn something."

Chiana lightly giggled despite herself.

"I just wanted you to know you can talk about it with me if you need to," Jool went on. "I'll listen if you need a friendly ear."

"Who'da thought," Chiana replied, remembering all the past clashes the two women had had after the somewhat spoiled Interion first came aboard Moya. Like herself, Joolushko had changed, had grown up over the last few cycles.

"Who would have thought," Jool agreed with her, with a tiny sincere grin. "You helped me adjust when I awoke – in your own crass way. I owe you, and I do appreciate what you've done for me… and for your friendship. I'm here for you if you need me."

Chiana tried to smile back, but the weight of all she was holding inside made it falter. The smile died on her lovely face as it all came crashing down.

"He's… he's not the same," she started out of the blue.

"Berret?" Jool inquired.

The Nebari nodded to confirm the answer. She hadn't meant to say anything, but she suddenly felt she needed to talk about it, to share her troubles with a compassionate ear.

"He's different from when we first met, changed inside," Chiana went on, "Something's hurt, and I don't know what to do… how to fix it…"

Chiana went on to tell her the full story, about how she met the Shrike and how she felt at the time. About her sorrow when she thought he died. Her short-lived joy about discovering he was alive, and her helpless heartache as she watched his slow descended into madness, made worse the longer he stayed and tried to help her. About how she had to refuse the Shrike's request that she leave with him, and explain that she planned to make a new life with D'argo… and her pain at plainly seeing something crushed within him, even though her eyes were not fully healed at the time.

Jool had no doubt that the gray girl didn't need her eyesight to judge Berret's need for her to go with him, while Chiana was streetwise and could be fiercely callused if required, she was very much in tune with those she considered her friends and the people she loved.

The Nebari went on to tell her of the constant nerve-racking clashes between Berret and D'argo, of the ex-assassin's burning desire for revenge against his old Syndicate House, of Scorpius's grim proclamation of his impending death and her growing grief at the thought of losing someone else she cared about. And finally, of what Berret had revealed to her about the Syndicate's dark and twisted role in the coming possible war.

Jool listen supportively, but with her own growing concern. The Interion had no immediate answers for the Nebari girl, as she was no Zhaan… not a priestess with eight hundred cycles of life experience behind her. After all, she had barely reached adulthood after leading a sheltered and privileged life herself.

Chiana however did feel somewhat lifted for having unburdened herself to another soul. In this way, Joolushko in the very least had supplied the outlet the gray girl had grown to so desperately need at the moment.

The Interion did agree with one conclusion that Chiana had come to on her own, she needed to bring what she knew about the Black Syndicate's plans to the one person who would know what to do about them - Rygel.

D'argo came to a halt in his pacing.

"Do you know how to work the machine, or not!" he demanded, his low voice rambling across the maintenance bay like angry thunder.

For his part, Scorpius ignored the Luxan, instead focusing his attention on the eyepiece of a magnifier he was using to trace circuit routes on an opened control board. Sikozu turned and gave the warrior an irritated look at the interruption.

"D'argo," the Kalish responded curtly, "For the last time, when Scorpius has reached the conclusion of his inspection – he will let you know what he has discovered."

"Or he's just stalling for time," Rygel countered from across the bay where he floated in his Hoverthrone, obviously bored with the technical work taking place before him.

Sikozu huffed at the Hynerian. "If you think you can do better…" she began.

"No need, Sikozu," Scorpius suddenly announced as he stepped back and shut the panel door closed behind him. "I have completed my double check of the device."

The Luxan and Rygel came closer, nearly running into each other. "And?" they both asked at the same time.

The PK scientist tapped a few buttons and a number of lights on the reconstruction machine flickered to live. Somewhere inside it, a power source energized. The steady hum as it drew power from Moya filled the bay, low enough to be felt in the crewmates' teeth.

"I have deduced its operation, and confirmed that you indeed had wired the device correctly – obviously a result of Pilot's help. It is fully operational," he reported.

"When will you be ready to make the attempt to restore Crichton and Aeryn?" Rygel asked.

Scorpius slid a level over and the machine growled with an abrupt influx of new power. The scientist gazed at the two crewmates with a sly toothy grin.

"Right now," he replied, and then punched in a command on the keypad under his fingertips.

"Wait!" D'argo shouted, but it was too late.

Inside the collection area of the massive machine, a force field rose into place. The static box that was holding John and Aeryn's remains dissolved and the crystal particles floated upward into the air. Multiple beams of light shot from the gun-like lens of the device, moving piece's around, arranging others in a certain order, and then adding more bits of crystal to the now steadily growing masses, as if assembling a giant jigsaw puzzle.

"Frell!" the huge warrior snarled. Then slammed one meaty hand against his comm badge. "Everyone get to the maintenance bay," he ordered. "Scorpius has begun the process. The machine is starting to reconstruct Aeryn and Crichton." He slapped his comm off and then turned to the Scarran half-breed. "You had better pray that this works. I wanted more tests run on that thing before we tried to bring them back."

"Whatever for?" Scorpius sneered. "The device is relatively simple once you examine it. My Aurora Chair is much more complex. Any competent Peacekeeper tech with a class four rating could have figured it out within a few arns."

D'argo pushed closer to Scorpius, his anger rising. "If you've kill them in your arrogant over-confidence, I'll snap your neck a microt after they have died."

The smirk faded from Scorpius's face, and his own eyes turned lethal. It was obvious that the Luxan didn't intimidate the scientist very much; also obvious was that D'argo would have a fight on his hands if he did try to carry out his threat. But the Luxan didn't care. John and Aeryn were two of the best comrades he'd ever had. He'd gladly die to avenge them if he had to.

Scorpius's voice turned cool, but calm.

"You are aware that I have a vested interest in Crichton's well being as well?" he asked. "It would do me no good to have him die senselessly along with the wormhole knowledge he possesses. I was very thorough with the machine, I am positive it will function correctly."

D'argo's only reply was a menacing hiss. Rygel floated up to eye-level with the PK commander.

"There's little more we can do about it now," the Hynerian royal said. "We'll just wait and see where the ghambit dice fall." His eyes narrowed at the scientist as well, adding his own silent promise of revenge if his friends didn't make it.

The sounds of running footsteps could be heard in the corridors outside the bay as the rest of the crew approached.

Scorpius ignored the coming of the new arrivals and turned back to the still running machine.

"It will be several more arns before the device has sorted and realigned the crystal fragment for reintegration," he announced. "Sikozu and I will stay and monitor the progress. I suggest the rest of you leave and let us work. We will summons you when the final step is ready."

Stark, Chiana, and Jool burst into the bay just then.

"What's going on?" Chiana asked.

At the same time, Stark began to howl. "They know! They know! They can feel themselves being put back together! The agony their souls are in! They know what is happening to them…"

"Yotz," the Hynerian grumbled. "Not again."

"Somebody shut him the frell up!" D'argo demanded.

Jool stepped over to the Banik. "Stark! Stark!" she began to beg. "Now is not the best time…"

Chiana pushed the Interion out of her way.
"Here, Princess, let me show you." The Nebari stood squarely in front of the hysterical man. "Stark! Stark!" she yelled into the man's face, at the same time snapping her fingers. A difficult act considering the gray thief was wearing gloves – but somehow she managed it.

Stark whimpered, but seemed to focus on her for an instant. Chiana's head cocked to the left. "Got your attention?" she asked. Stark frowned and made a babbling sound that could have been an affirmative.

"Good," Chiana added.

Then smashed her forehead into Stark's face.

The Banik's head snapped back, and his eyes rolled up into his head as he hit the floor unconscious.

The Nebari stepped backward and rubbed at her head where she'd hit the frenzied man.

"Thank you," D'argo said dryly.

"Don't mention it," Chiana replied with an equally dry smile.

Jool turned from the fallen man, to get a quick look at the busy machine sitting in the middle of the deck.

"Do you think Stark was right?" she asked the Luxan in a quite voice a few microts later. "Do you think they know what's happening to them?"

D'argo turned to regard her with a grim look.

"If they do," he replied. "They have no other choice but to simply bear it."

Several arns later, Berret's eyes snapped suddenly open as clear consciousness struck him like a war-hammer. His gaze focused sharply on the ceiling of his quarters. For a brief moment he floated peacefully on his sleeping platform, then his stomach rebelled and he barely managed to extend his head over the side of his bed before he threw up.

He had dreamed, and in his dreams he had remembered… and felt. In his time in the strange land of his memories, he had loved and been loved, had hated and feared. He had known the peace of family, the warmth of friendships, the lifting of joy and the cutting of painful sadness.

And he had known grief.

And my, how he had grieved. For the loss of all he had once had and known, for the cold life that was now all that was left to him. For what the Syndicate had made, for what he had done, for the memories that were even now slipping through his mental grasp like grains of sand.

And that was the worst, having been shown his past… only to have it creeping back out of reach again. Everything he had seen was getting harder and harder to recall every microt. They were his; he wanted to scream to whatever gods watch over mortals! The memories were the only things left to him, of who he had been… they were his only hope!

He grieved the loss of that anew. The grieving never seemed to stop, but at least it was a feeling that truly touched him, something more than the emptiness that was his existence.

Then a new image filled him. Skin of soft porcelain… soulful dark eyes… a voice with a song so sweet and comforting. The hope and safety of her kindness and the soothing desire to turn himself over to it.

Then the near crushing grief of knowing it will never be.

Berret snarled silently as he decided he'd had enough. If this is what emotions brought to him, the price he had to pay, he didn't want to feel them anymore.

With his head near spinning, it was easier to simply roll out of the bed; avoiding the mess on the floor he had made getting sick. "There are no answers in this!" he growled lowly as he came to his knees beside the platform.

This had only been an exercise in pain… and his life was already much too full of that.

"I will kill that old woman," the Enforcer swore, his hand found the frame of his bed as he brewed and took it in a death grip in his building rage. "She will never play another game with anyone again. I will find her… and I will rend her… limb – from – limb!"

Berret shot to his feet, at the same time throwing his bed end-over-end in his anger. The piece of furniture crash against a wall, and part of the Shrike was thrilled to find that his augmentation had returned to him.

He turned to catch his view in the room's reflective surface bolted to another bulkhead. In the image his eyes burned like twin suns, silver and out of control.

The microbes were still in over-drive, but as he seen himself and was reminded of his situation… he realized something else.

During his rant about killing Noranti… the voice in his mind had been totally silent!

It should have been there, driving him on to higher levels of violence. Giving him more gruesome mental pictures of the old woman's demise. Demanding that he act on his promise of death.

He paused, almost afraid that he was imagining it. A few more microts with nothing happening, he forced himself to search his mind for ruminates of the control collar.

He did eventually find it… deep in the background; the specter's voice so distance it was barely noticeable. His eyes in the mirror had shifted to a steadier tint of silver as he processed this new miracle.

That crazy old woman had found something that inhibited the pathways!

He forgot the urgent need to eradicate Noranti, forgot the moment of weakness and the recent abuse at Scorpius's hands. He left his quarters like a whirlwind to track the ancient down and get the answers he sought from her.

Even if it meant using unpleasant methods to persuade her to talk.

The hunt for the Shrike was a short one. He located Noranti in her room just a short distance away.

The door was locked, but Berret punched the lock panel out, slightly damaging his hand. Pilot would surely protest the ill treatment to Moya's interior, but the Enforcer cared even less for that than he did for his quickly healing hand at the moment.

He gripped the edge of the converted cell door and forced it open with a squeal.

Inside, Noranti glanced up from her makeshift desk with only mild curiosity at his sudden entrance.

"If you wished to come in," she said nonplused, "You simply had to knock and I would have opened the door for you."

Berret ignored her comment and walked up to her.

"I want a list and samples of every item that was in that drug you concocted for me," he announced.

"Whatever for, silly boy? I already told you the mixture will only work once on you," she responded.

The Shrike bent lower, bringing his face closer to hers.

"Give them to me, now," he demanded.

Noranti frowned, adding a few more wrinkles to her roadmap of a face. After a few microts, the third eye in her forehead drifted lazily open, pulsing through several colors. Berret ignored the extra orb, deciding he was going to give her only another five microts to comply before he resorted to violence to get what he wanted from her.

Instead, Noranti's frown faded, as if something new had been revealed to her that answered an unspoken question.

"Ah!" she said in understanding. "I see something unexpected has happen. Perhaps if you tell me exactly what you are looking for and why you want it, I can help you get to it quicker."

Berret scowled. The last thing he wanted was more 'help' from this insane old woman. But then again, she did seem to have more knowledge about him and the microbes than she let on. And it would hasten his search for the component of the concoction that was blocking the pathway's ghost if she knew what he was looking for in the first place.

Reluctantly, he told her of the side effect he was experiencing, and his desire to find what had caused it.

Noranti listened, and then nodded sagely when he was finished.

"I know exactly what herb is acting as the neural chemical blocker that's blocking the feedback," she announced.

"What is it?" Berret asked, ignoring an uncommon surge of hope.

"It's a fairly common medicinal herb, it has many different names on different words," she said as she went to a collection of bottles, boxes, and leather bags arranged around the end of her desk and began searching through them. Its normally used as a sedative with its strength ranging from mild to sleep inducing – depending on how its administered and concentrated. Ah! Here it is…" she said as she lifted a small box.

She opened the container to reveal several dried leaves, an even tinier number of what looked to Berret like roots, and a smaller glass jar filled with a fine-grained brownish powder.

"The roots contain the strongest doses of the drug, but the leaves have small percentages of it too. They make a nice soothing tea themselves. Both the leaves and the roots can be chewed, or distilled into a stronger concentrate like is in this bottle. The concentrate can be ingested, or injected –which works quicker. "

"That is all you have of this?" Berret inquired.

Noranti nodded an affirmative that was almost apologetic. "At the moment, this is all I have. I will have to restock my supplies at the next planet stop."

Berret's lips turned downward at the answer, but he decided that what they had at the time was better than nothing.

"Give it to me," he demanded, not caring that the old woman might protest handing the herbs over.

Noranti pulled the box out of his reach, and the Shrike prepared to get physical if need be to acquire it, and the contents.

"A moment… you must listen," the three-eyed woman said. Berret paused to hear her out, but making it clear with narrowed eyes his patience wasn't going to last very long.

"The root will only dull your condition for so long," she began. "Over time its effects will lessen and you will need to take more and stronger doses as your central neural system builds an immunity to it. Eventually it will cease to work at all, and you will find yourself addict to the herb itself. The very branch nerves in your body itself will crave it."

She paused to see if her words were having any effect on the Shrike, Berret merely watched her blankly, waiting for her to go on if she had any more information to give to him.

"It will be better for you, if you learn to strengthen your mind against what the collar left inside you, and to do it now before relying on drugs. The mind is very powerful in itself, and can heal a great many aliments both physical and mental."

"I do not have the time," Berret replied as he held out his hand for the box. "And do you really think I'm going to live long enough to learn mental tricks to solve this?"

Noranti frowned again, then handed him the box with the herb in it with a low sigh.

Berret neither made another comment nor thanked her, he simply spun on one boot heel and left her quarters with his booty.

The old woman watched him leave with something associated to sadness in her two normal eyes; the third one had drifted closed again.

"I wish you would have tried," she sighed at the man's back, "At least for her sake."

Once he was away from the old woman, with the box safely in his possession, Berret felt an odd sense of relief wash over him. Finally, something had gone the slightest way in his favor. The specter's voice was still somewhere far in the background and hadn't gotten any louder yet.

He concluded it would take some experimentation with the herb to find out how long the effects lasted. He considered the small amount of the drug the box held at the moment, and decided he was going to have to do his best to ration out what he had until he could acquire more.

Possibly just use the concentrated version when he needed to remain in strict control, and try the leaves and roots themselves for less important times. Either way, he had to pick his uses of his supply carefully.

He was just rounding a corner in the corridor, still deep in his thoughts when he ran into someone coming the opposite direction.

"OH!" Jool exclaimed as she rebound off the Shrike's hard body.

Berret almost cursed after discovering the Interion woman. She was almost as tall as he was and always asking question whenever she met up with him.

"My apologizes, Berret," the red hair woman said. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

The ex-Enforcer grunted his reply, and swerved around her to make his escape.

"Er… Berret!" Jool called to his back. Berret groaned at the nuisance, but stopped in his tracks anyway. The woman would simply just follow him down the tier if he ignored her anyway. "If you're not busy at the moment. I would greatly appreciate if you could answer some questions I have about the Syndicate and Shrikes in general?"

The assassin turned to look at her, Jool gazed back at him with expectant hope in her bright green eyes. For some reason without the constant voice in his head, Berret didn't feel too put out by the request. He shrugged to himself and decided that the annoying Interion female would be the perfect test to see how effectively the herb would suppress the pathway ghost.

"You may not like what you hear," Berret warned tonelessly.

Jool smiled brightly as she realized the man might grant her request. "That's okay, I'm a scholar and sometimes we learn things from history that aren't all that pleasing. They are important none-the-less."

Interestingly, Berret found he liked her smile. It wasn't the same as Chiana's, but oddly pleasing anyway.

"I will tell you what I can," he replied.

Joolushko offered him a deeper smile, linked her long arm through his, and led the captive Shrike back to the Center Chamber where they could talk in relative comfort.

The woman was already firing off multiple questions at him without waiting for answers in her excitement.

Berret briefly wondered if perhaps he'd made a grave error using the curious female as a test after all.