"Let me clarify one thing, Mr Danes." Daniel Ryland once again spoke with authority: it wasn't what he said, but the manner of its delivery, strong, controlled. Assessing and perceptive.
"Harry," said Harry.
"Yes. Harry," repeated Daniel Ryland, and his face changed from inquisitorial to friendly. There may even have been the trace of a smile, but it disappeared quickly as he continued.
"Nothing that we experienced was real? It was just our imagination?"
"Not imagination. Implant." Harry replied. "We didn't make it up. They were experiences implanted by - " he waved a hand, looked up, pointed above him - "Them."