Right. Yes. Put the knife away. Orders are orders, even if he's clearly malfunctioning. He slowly finds the sheath for the knife and puts it away, snapping it in safely, and forces his hand down from his head, even if it's spinning.

"He wasn't here," he says weakly, probably the most emotion she's heard out of him. Even his description before had been terse and tense, but toneless. Now he actually sounds anxious, unhappy. "The handler. I thought he was but he wasn't."