Oh, god, Curtis hears himself think. What have I done.

His heart hammers against his ribs. He can't back out, he can't -- she gave him the arm, he took the Voice of Barsoom, he can't hurt her like this -- he let himself fall in with someone from the Front, and she's asked so little but why can't he just have some fucking time why is that so hard --

He's so afraid he can't even breathe. Afraid the Voice of Barsoom will do its work. Afraid she'll know, in that split-second moment before he can get himself the fuck together and figure out what to do. She's worth figuring out something.

He doesn't want to go.