He carries her with diligence, and the promptness of a field surgeon, but also with a sense of care, albeit the care of a physician rather than a parent. "Just a little ways up," he says, almost like a priest counselling a troubled member of his flock. "You'll remember your self as you move further up and further in. Reach for those memories and images; hold fast to them.

He may carry himself a little slack, as if sensing her discomfort and giving her some assurance that he means no harm. "As commonplace as being born. It is, perhaps, the main way new life comes into this place. In some ways, there's no real getting used to it, any more than people lose their collective sense of awe over birth or the changing of the seasons," he says.