Emily looks at him for a long moment, frowning. "If you're saying their humanity is a disease they need to be cured of..."

She looks away, to the avox and then down to the ground, swallowing down any response that could be construed as the least bit incendiary. They were people with homes and families, she wanted to argue, they'd been children once and been held and rocked to sleep, they'd laughed and cried and loved and lived. In a way she knew Quintus was right, that the spark inside them that had spurred them to do all of those normal, joyous, human things had been extinguished forever, and she was only making things worse for them by trying to fan it back into life. In the Arena, there'd always been the hope that she would get out of there, and she'd defied the odds and done just that. And as much as it had traumatised her, she'd rather go through a thousand Arenas than end up devoid of hope and dreams like the avoces.

"I'm sorry, Mr Falxvale. I'm not sure continuing this topic of conversation is a good idea."