"I–" Flynn starts, alarm shooting through him like ice down his limbs. There are a hundred things wrong with that. He can't even begin to pick apart what they are. There is the fear of doing something Distinctly Wrong, combined with a premonition of the horrible awkwardness of simply walking into a space not for him (something he's already done enough of this month, with the doors the way they are). There's something about honor and something else about duty. It's a horrible squirming tangle, and Flynn's face is red with it.

"I can't agree!" He finally manages, and has to rush to justify it. "We know that's an inappropriate choice. It's the only thing I can really be sure of. And, if nothing happens when we go into the others, that will also be evidence that we've chosen correctly."