Aramis watches her fingers close over his own, his only proof that the contact is happening, for his own hand is quite without nerves. "A man hopes his actions will have some impact," he says, voice tinny to his own ears. "That they will reach into the years beyond his death, that his life will have meaning through the decades, even centuries. It is a foolish dream, and one better reserved to great men, but still I held it."

Aramis draws a breath. "The way you speak now gives me cause to dread it. I have only begun, and yet there is a René whose hands are dirtied in ways I cannot fathom. Please, Allison, be as frank as you can, but also be kind. I do not think I can bear new burdens I have not yet earned."