He’s fixated on the acquisition of additional research. [ This is easier to answer. The framework of the sentiment is already there, well worn into the walls of his skull and necessarily shadowed by the cloying illogic of continual delay. Suspicion gnawing itself in the unknown. ] Research we may never find. We’ve been searching for months. The excursions are deadly.

You’re familiar with the disquiet of not knowing how much longer you have to wait.

[ She is, as they’ve just reminded themselves, a Rifter. ]

Or how much longer you’re willing to.