'I have to say, professor, that this, without a doubt, is one of the most depressing conversations I've ever had. I feel like drowning myself in a tub.'

Despite the sorrow that welled through him, Thomas smiled a mock winning smile. 'Welcome to the semantic apocalypse.'

Sam breathed deeply, enough to blow aside the odd strands of hair that had fallen across her face. 'So you think this is what Cassidy is up to? You think he's simply making the Argument in the most dramatic way he can?'

Thomas paused, troubled by the hollow in his stomach. 'For the ancient Greeks, puppets were neurospastos, "drawn by strings". I think this might be what Neil is up to.'

'You mean showing us the strings?'

'Exactly. He wants the whole world to share his revelation.'

Even as he said it, Thomas somehow knew that it couldn't be true, that something far more terrifying was at stake. But as so often happens in the course of making arguments, it didn't seem such a bad thing cutting corners here and there, allowing what was convenient to trump what was true. What mattered was that she believed.

'Think about Cynthia Powski,' he continued. 'Think of that BD as the first premise in an argument. What does it say? What conclusion does it point to?'

Sam nodded appreciatively. 'That he's in charge. That he can force her to do, and more importantly, to feel, anything he wants.'

'Is it? Then why does he surrender the controls to her?'

'I dunno. To show that he can make her want to be raped? Isn't that the rapist's credo? That all women secretly want it?'

Frowning, Thomas let his gaze wander the bar. The number of people now hunched over drinks and tables surprised him. He glanced at a waitress marching with a steaming plate of fries. 'Maybe. But remember what Atta said? What we witnessed wasn't rape. Neil—supposing it was Neil—forced a woman to experience something akin to multiple orgasms. Be he didn't touch her—not sexually, anyway. No. I think he's pointing to something more abstract. From his standpoint, I think he thinks his position is incidental to the BD, not at all important.'

'And why's that?'

'Why? Ask yourself: if you were in that chair, if you were Cynthia Powski, would you want it?'

'What kind of question is that?'

'An important one. Would you want it?'

'Fuck, no.'

'If Cynthia Powski were here right now, what do you think she would say?'

Samantha looked at him angrily. 'The same.'