She waits, then when he opens his mouth to speak, she affects to change her mind. "Stop. Stop, Jack, and let me think." The Fire Judges will have a narrative. That is what they do here: they build stories and use them to control tidal flow. She cannot beat the narrative they have in mind for her until she knows what it is, but if she waits to act until she knows, it will have swallowed her. She has to control this room, win the conceptual engagement and make of it a hinge to twist the giant’s hand against the joint. She must unbalance them at each turning of the road; she must be willing where they expect her to check, perverse where they imagine she will see sense. Act against type, but always according to self.