It was bad enough when the capsule began to rise from the tower, plummeting uncontrollably upwards towards the mythical sky-city of Columbia. When it finally arrived and opened out onto the panoply of religious mania and racism that was Columbia, it seemed worse.
The true horror, however, was reserved for the last; for the moment when, arriving at the tower, he beheld the Prophet's 'daughter', Elizabeth. The girl-body at the heart of that mass of cables and wires looked so small and fragile, but her eyes blazed with a remorseless light.
"Elizabeth?" De Witt asked, uncertainly.
"Elizabeth is but a part of my glory, as shall you all be," the echoing voice replied. "I am the Supreme Hand of Divine Authority and Knowledge, but you - for the brief remainder of your pitiful life - will know me as SHODAN."