Luckily, Bria was far back in the crowd, quite near the end of the amphitheater. She let herself be shoved backward, off the permacrete, until her feet encountered gooey jungle loam. With a single quick, decisive movement, Bria dug her toe into a lump of trampled leaves and mud and lifted it. Her fingers released the glitterstim cylinder, and it fell, landing in the center of the hole.
Bria turned, and as she did so, her foot pressed the lump of mud back down into the jungle floor. The entire sequence of events had taken only a second.
She began edging her way along the back of the crowd, toward the path, allowing herself to be carried along with the tide of incoherent, querulous, confused, and dissatisfied pilgrims.
A cautious glance behind her assured her that Teroenza had abandoned his search, apparently having realized how hopeless it was, and how much his atypical behavior was upsetting the pilgrims. Bria hoped that he’d put the entire experience down to some relative newcomer deciding to experiment with a stolen vial of glitterstim.
She moved numbly down the path, her footsteps slow and unsteady. The effects of the glitterstim had faded so much that she was barely aware of the thoughts and emotions of those immediately around her.
She wasn’t surprised when Vykk fell into step beside her. As usual, he took her arm to help support her. Bria leaned against him, grateful for his support, and felt his arm go around her waist, until he was half holding her up.
The swift equatorial dark was all around them, now. Bria could barely see Vykk. He led her down the path, avoiding the worst of the mud puddles.
Then, when they reached the dorm, she stopped. “I’m … not going in there just yet,” she mumbled. “I need … I need to talk to you, Vykk.”
He nodded, his features barely visible in the light cast from the open doors. “Okay. I don’t think anyone will mind if we go up to the mess hall for a cup of stim-tea. You look like you could use it.”
Together, they turned away, into the darkness. Bria leaned on Vykk as they went up the path. She had never felt so weary. A droid would have moved with more animation.
When they reached the mess hall, Vykk sat her down and fetched them cups of stim-tea, plus a sugared pastry, which he pushed at Bria.
“Here,” he said. “Eat this. You look like you need it.”
Obediently she sipped her tea and nibbled on the pastry. She hadn’t had dinner, and the food seemed to steady her, bring the world back into focus.
She leaned toward Vykk, ready to talk, but even as she opened her mouth, he shook his head warningly. “Guess I’d better get you back to your dorm,” he said loudly. “That’ll teach you to skip meals, 921. I thought you were going to pass out on me back there.”
Taking the hint, Bria got to her feet in silence and followed him out.
When they reached the outside of the Administration Building, Vykk pulled out a pair of infrared goggles and pulled them on. “You got yours?”
Nodding, Bria located them and pulled them into place. The night suddenly resolved itself into ghostly black and greenish-white images.
She could see Vykk’s face now, half-hidden as it was by the goggles.
His arm came around her again as they started down the jungle path together. “You took the glitterstim,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” she said, feeling as numb as if she’d been beaten into unconsciousness. “You were right. Forgive me for doubting you . .
.”
“Hey,” he said, trying to sound cheerful and failing utterly, “I’d have wanted to check out my story, too, in your place. Was it … was it rough?”
She nodded, and suddenly feeling rushed back, in a black tide, leaving her shaking and gasping. “Oh, Vykk!” she babbled. “I was in his mind, Teroenza’s mind, and it was terrible! No Divine Gift, just a bored, selfish sentient who wants to get richer so he can add to his collection!”
“Take it easy,” he said, holding her shoulders to steady her. “You’ve had an awful shock.”
“I feel … I feel … so … betrayed,” Bria got out, between chattering teeth. “It was … terrible …”
“Hey, there, sweetheart …” His arms went around her, and the expression of sympathy was her undoing. Bria began to sob, huge, gulping, wracking sobs that hurt. Vykk helped her take her goggles off, then he just held her, stroking her hair, patting her back, murmuring soothing reassurances and endearments.
She held on to the front of his coverall with both hands, twisting and wringing the fabric, and weeping so hard she scared herself. Bria had never cried like this before. The sense of desolation was terrible.
“I … don’t … have anything left,” she choked out between spasms of crying. “Nothing … nothing …”