“Can’t you feel it, Tovarisch?” Napoleon asked, glancing furtively around the room. “I sense that something which was missing is now returning, stronger than before.”
“Are you talking about ‘THEM’?” Illya whispered, pointing vaguely above him.
“Not strictly them per se, but the thing which drives them to do what they do.”
Napoleon picked up the telephone.
“I’ll get medical to get the comfy chair ready for when I am sitting by your bedside.”
“I suspect I may be spending a lot of time with them in the near future,” Illya grumbled.