Isaac had worked out during which hours of the night Venus would be shining her perfectly unidirectional light on Woolsthorpe Manor's south wall, and he'd done it not only for tonight but for every night in the next several weeks. All of those hours were spoken for: he had planned out a whole program of experiments. It was clear to Daniel that Isaac had been arguing his case against a whole court full of imaginary Jesuits hurling Latin barbs at him from every quarter, objecting to his methods in ways that were often ridiculous – that Isaac fancied himself as a combination of Galileo and St. Anne, but that unlike Galileo he had no intention of knuckling under, and unlike St. Anne he would not end up riddled with his tormentors' arrows – he was getting ready to catch the arrows, and fling them back.