[ His must tilt his head, acknowledging the short-sightedness of his statement. Dr. Banner had said there had been bears, a need to kill their own food and defend themselves, among other scrabbling to survive. An armory would seem essential.

Then, however, a shrug. ]

We are ascribing human emotions and motivations to alien figures. It may not be a matter of either stupidity or manipulation, or it may be both. As for that...

[ He glances sidelong at Newton. Hermann leans a touch more for the papers. It's not terribly necessary. He could see already. It leans him, however, that much closer to Newton, now at an angle. ]

...that will happen, whether we like it or trust them or not. I'm not sure trust is even the appropriate word, come to that.

[ They've dealt with enough. Newton certainly has, his 96 more days in Haven speaking to that, his savaged cheeks. They'll deal with more yet.

What can Hermann do? Presently, swing his cane's handle in a half arc, out from his side, the tip still on the ground, an anxious moment not remotely unusual for his active hand on his cane -- and he's brushing their fingers, where Newton's hand hangs at his side. ]