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Nakllte stood over Tseyo as he struggled to his feet. "A child would get up before you," the old warrior said. "I barely hit you."

Tseyo held his bruising side and replied, "That wasn't 'barely'…" Nakllte interrupted him with a punch to his stomach, causing him to double over.

"I didn't say the match was over, Tseyo," he lectured. "If you're going to stand up to an enemy, then be prepared to fight."

Norm stood a few yards away and watched the brutal lesson play out, as round after round ended with Tseyo either on his back or on his knees and gasping for air. Morning turned into afternoon, and the shadows of the surrounding jungle retreated from the small meadow. Norm quickly missed the shade, even though the jungle's humidity had hardly made the morning's shadows a refuge from the heat.

Nakllte walked over to Norm while his student tried to catch his breath after yet another hard lesson. "This isn't working," he said candidly. "I don't think Tseyo has ever had to react to this kind of aggression."

"I'd guess that you're right," he replied. "But the only thing you're leaving out is that humans are more likely to kick him when he's down than help him up."

Nakllte shook his head and said, "I can't bring myself to do that. He's freezing up enough as it is." He sighed and added, "Besides, do you really think humans are going to fight him like this?"

Norm took a moment to reflect on the very obvious physical advantages the Na'vi had over humans, which needed no more emphasis than the fact that Norm had developed a very painful kink in his neck from having to keep looking up at his hosts. "No," he said, "but that's not the point. It's important for him to train his mind for this kind of aggressive behavior."

Nakllte nodded and looked over his shoulder as Tseyo finally got to his feet. "He has a long way to go, though." He looked back at Norm and said, "I can tell already that I need more time to train him."

"I can't give you more time," he replied. "You're doing a good job, just stay on him."

He snorted and said with a wry grin, "Don't take offense, Norm, but I don't need a Sky Person to tell me that I'm doing a good job training Na'vi warriors. I've been doing it for a long time."

Norm held up his hands to indicate that no offense was taken. He and Nakllte had built up something of a professional rapport, as he was one of the principal contacts when Norm was supplying the Na'vi with weapons. They were not friends, but they had found a measure of respect for each other.

Nakllte looked back over his shoulder and shouted at Tseyo, "We're done for now. I will come for you when it's time to resume your training."

Tseyo nodded.

"Norm will be your teacher until I return," Nakllte added, and then he walked back towards Hometree.

Once Nakllte was out of eyesight, Tseyo sat down, and then a moment later stretched out on his back. He groaned and asked, "How many more days will be like this, teacher?"

"All of them," Norm said as he walked over with his backpack. "Earth is not a place for the timid. You're going to have to be more aggressive, Tseyo, because neither Nakllte nor the people we're fighting will get any more passive."

Tseyo sighed and sat upright. "I've watched him train my brothers and sisters to be hunters and warriors, and he never laid a hand on them more than a few times. I didn't expect him to be this violent."

"Your brothers and sisters aren't going where you are."

Norm pulled out his teaching instruments. While Nakllte had been given the task of preparing Tseyo's body for the mission, Norm had to do his best to acclimate him to the realities of Earth. Jake had been clear that every moment Tseyo was awake, he had to be learning.

Norm activated his tablet. Before he taught anything new, he wanted to be sure Tseyo was retaining his previous lessons. He called up one of the earlier videos he showed to Tseyo – a car chase – and maximized the volume, certainly scaring off any animals that might have been scouting them from along the clearing's perimeter.

He almost scared Tseyo off as well; for as soon as the sound of the sirens blared, Tseyo nearly jumped up from his sitting position. "What is this noise?" Norm asked.

Tseyo hesitated before he answered with the English word, "Siren."

Norm nodded. "Does it come from an animal or a machine?"

"Machine."

"What does it mean?"

"It means there's danger nearby."

Norm nodded again. He repeated the exercise for the better part of the next hour, testing Tseyo on his ability to associate common human sounds and images, and then his ability to place them in context.

His next lesson began with a montage of city scenes, and Norm lectured about the many differences between life in a human city and the life which Tseyo had enjoyed. To Tseyo's credit, he did not complain about the amount of information being thrown his way. Much to the contrary, he stayed engaged and asked many questions about human culture.

Eventually, Norm became aware of his own hunger; and he figured Tseyo had to be eager for a break. He took a break from the lesson to take a pre-pasted field ration from his backpack. Abe had a surplus of rations after the casualties his team suffered; and since Norm would not have a chance to remove his exopack, he had to give up the natural delicacies he had become accustomed to eating in his years following RDA's exile.

The field rations that were used by the military well into the late twenty-first century had mostly been phased out. As troops on deployment were ever more likely to be wearing exopacks on a regular basis as the environment deteriorated, they did not have the time to "prepare" a multicourse meal that those early rations tried to mimic. Instead, field rations were reengineered to be more in line with those used by early-era, high-altitude pilots and astronauts: pasted meals that could be ingested with straws through the soldiers' masks.

Also unlike the early rations – or, as some veterans might say if they could speak from beyond the grave, just like those early rations – there were too few natural ingredients that Norm had to be worried about the rations spoiling as they sat in his backpack, several days removed from Hell's Kitchen's refrigerators. The packet cover said he was about to eat applesauce and pork. The listed ingredients, however, called into question whether or not there was even a pork byproduct in the meal's contents.

Norm sighed and removed tubing that was attached to the packaging, and then he crushed the bag in order to activate the chemical heating process. If he could not have genuine food, he could at least have a warm meal. A moment later he affixed the tube to a valve on the food package, and then worked the tube through an opening near the seal of his exopack mask.

The food was not unpalatable, but it was tasteless; and that meant Norm was too aware of its unpleasant texture. As he tried to put the unpleasant feeling of the paste out of his mind, he noticed that Tseyo's bemused expression. "Is that how all Sky People eat?" he asked.

"Only when we're outside," he replied. Tseyo shook his head and chuckled, although Norm could not tell if it was in amusement at the ridiculously complicated process, or just as a commentary on human peculiarities.

Whatever the case, Norm had an unpleasant surprise for Tseyo.

"And since you're going to get your own mask for Earth's air," he said, "you aren't going to be able to eat the food you're familiar with." He reached back into his pack and tossed Tseyo a field ration. "You should start getting used to these."

Tseyo looked like Nakllte had hit him in the stomach again, and Norm could not blame him. He was not looking forward to bearing witness to how the field ration was received by Tseyo's digestive system. However, the sooner Tseyo's body became used to human "delicacies," the better off he would be on Earth. Norm walked Tseyo through the steps needed to use the ration, and waited for his reaction.

It was about as he expected.

Tseyo spit out the paste– allegedly chicken and noodles – as soon as it touched his tongue, and he hastily set the ration aside. "That's disgusting!" he shouted. "That wasn't food, that was—," he stopped, shook his head, and spit again. He continued, "I don't want to know what that was, but it was not food. Poison, maybe."

"Unfortunately, Tseyo, that was food," Norm said, doing his best to remain serious and not laugh at Tseyo's reaction. "And it's the only food I brought with me. It's also going to be the only food you have on Earth. So if you want to eat—," he left the rest of the sentence unspoken and nodded at the discarded field ration.

Norm worried that, perhaps, the food was somehow poisonous to Tseyo, and he was being too dismissive of his complaint. But he also knew that did not change the fact that Tseyo would not be able to eat much else on Earth; and if he was unable to digest the field ration, then they would have to remove him from the mission.

They shared a tense few moments of silence, and then Tseyo sighed, picked up the ration, and sucked up the rest of the contents. He grimaced throughout the meal, like a child being forced to take medicine against his will.

"Maybe it just takes a while to get used to," Tseyo offered when he was done. "There were many foods I didn't like as a child."

Norm chuckled and said, "I hate to say it, but I don't think these get any better the more you have them."

Tseyo shook his head. "How are you Sky People still alive?" he asked. "If your Earth is as sick as this food tastes, as the visions you've shown me, it seems like you will all die."

"We're stubborn, Tseyo," he replied with far less levity than he had a moment earlier. "We aren't going to give up on the chance that the future will be better than today."

"You're too stubborn to die, but too stubborn to change your ways," he said. "Is that why you want others to accept your ways, so you can go on living without acting differently?"

Norm started to shake his head, but something in him forced him into a moment of reflection. He thought about the cumulative of his life's experiences before coming to Pandora. He sighed and lowered his head, then nodded. "Most of us, yes, would rather have others conform to their ways than change, but not all of us."

"What about you?" Tseyo asked.

Norm was surprised by the question, and almost insulted. "Of course I want to change the way we behave. It's why I came here in the first place," he replied. "Why would you ask that?"

Tseyo lowered his head and took a deep breath. "I think, sometimes, you are trying to change me instead of teach me." Norm was about to respond, but he continued, "A few nights ago, I dreamed about what it will be like when I come home. The people didn't recognize me, though. They said I was too much like one of you, so they wouldn't let me back." Tseyo wiped his eyes before he concluded, "It's not been like other dreams that have gone away with time – it has stayed with me. It feels like a sign from Eywa."

"That sounds like a bad dream," Norm replied. "But I'm not trying to change you, Tseyo, I'm trying to prepare you."

He looked up and asked, "Will they try to change me on your Earth?"

"Maybe," Norm said candidly, "if you let them make that choice for you."

Tseyo was silent for a while, his head lowered in contemplation, but then he nodded and said, "Thank you, Norm."

Jake could not help but laugh. "I remember the first time I had a 'meal rejected by the enemy,'" he said. "I think my whole platoon got sick that first time around – and it's not like any of us had been living high on steak dinners before signing up."

He had too many responsibilities as the Omaticaya's leader to be involved in every minute of Tseyo's training, even though his absence from it often gave him occasion to worry. Instead, he met with Norm and Nakllte every few nights at his hammock in order to get their reports.

"It was definitely a shock to his system," Norm replied with a chuckle. "But he's stopped, ah, violently rejecting them, so I guess that's a good sign."

Nakllte cracked a smile and said, "I think they're responsible for making him a more aggressive fighter."

Jake could have put forward anecdotal evidence in support of his warrior general's theory, but he decided to spare his companions those details. "How's his focus?" Neytiri asked. "Has he expressed any second thoughts?"

Norm and Nakllte exchanged a quick glance, but they both shook their heads. "Every warrior has moments of doubt, Tsahik," Nakllte responded. "If Tseyo has had anything worse than those, he hasn't shown it."

"We've thrown a lot at him in a short period of time," Norm added. "On the whole, I think he's taken it better than I had expected. However, I think we should give him a break before we find out where his limit is."

Nakllte nodded. "I don't think we're asking him to do too much, but if he tries to train while he's exhausted, he's more likely to injure himself. Maybe in a few days, we'll give him some rest."

Jake nodded. Even his basic training had "core values" days that offered a slight respite from the otherwise intense physical conditioning – even if they were far from anything like days off. "Keep an eye on him," he said. "If it looks like he needs a break sooner, don't hesitate to give it to him. Just don't make it a habit." They nodded in acknowledgment, and he continued, "I'm sure you're doing a good job with him, but let me know if there are any problems." That was their usual cue to leave, and they began to stand when Jake turned to Norm and said, "Stay for a moment."

He did as asked and, once Nakllte had gone from earshot, Norm asked, "What's up?"

"It's nothing serious," Jake said. "I just want to know how you're settling in."

Norm grinned and replied, "I think I'd be doing better if I didn't feel like a child around here, but there's not much I can do about that." He paused to rub the back of his neck. "Besides, I've been spending most – well, all – of my time with Tseyo, so I haven't seen as much of the people as I would otherwise like to."

"The people aren't giving you trouble, are they?" Neytiri asked.

He shook his head. "They've kept their distance."

She frowned. "You are a friend of the people. They shouldn't pretend like you're not here."

"It's okay, Neytiri," he replied. "Other than the battle with Quaritch, I never got close to the people to really be their friend." He paused and added, "Maybe that's for the better too, since I'm going to be going back to Earth."

"Have you thought about coming back?" Jake asked.

Norm laughed. "Jake, regardless of whether or not we're successful on Earth, I really, really doubt I'm going to have the chance to come back here."

He knew it was true, but he still felt compelled to ask. The thought of being removed from one of his closest friends, and his last physical connection to his brother, for the rest of his life often gave him an uneasy moment of pause. Jake frowned and said, "I wish we could have saved your avatar."

Norm just nodded.

"Maybe the same day Tseyo is given his rest, you will spend more time among the people," Neytiri offered.

"Maybe," Norm replied. "I just don't want to get in people's way and upset the peace."

"If these are your last days with us, you should have the chance to enjoy them," she said with a smile. "I want you to be happy here. I also think you have more friends here than you think."

Norm smiled and said, "Trust me, Neytiri, I'm happy to be here, even if it is only for a short time." He stood and said, "But I'll be happier to get some sleep."

"Have a good night, Norm," Jake said with a smile. Norm gave him a thumbs-up, and then made his way down the branches to his hammock.

Neytiri shook her head once he was out of sight and said, "He shouldn't feel alone, here."

"I don't think he feels alone," Jake replied, "just out of place. How could he not?"

"Is that how you felt when you first came to us?"

Jake laughed and said, "Yes, but then I had a much colder welcoming than he did." He grinned at her and said, "And my teacher was a bit feistier than Tseyo's."

Neytiri poked him between his ribs and replied, "But she was a good teacher, given the student."

He brushed her cheek and said, "She was the best." He leaned forward and kissed her, and she brought her arms around him. They lay down together, and he put a hand on her stomach. "She'll be a good teacher for our children, too."

She rested her hands on top of his and laid her head on his shoulder. "Their father will also be a good teacher," she said.

He kissed her forehead and replied, "I'm looking forward to it."

Norm woke up earlier than expected. He looked over at Tseyo's hammock and saw that he was still fast asleep. At the end of his training yesterday, he and Nakllte informed him that he was going to have the day off. Tseyo tried to maintain a disciplined, muted response to the news, but then Norm let him know that it meant he could eat regular food. His reaction was then more animated.

He rummaged through his duffel for a field ration that most closely approximated breakfast – settling for sausage with Italian rice – and, after suffering through it, took a camera from his bag and made his way to Hometree's floor. Even though he had only been at Hometree for a few weeks, Norm had become better at navigating the branchworks that spiraled throughout the tree's interior.

Most of the clan was already awake, and the people were going about their usual routines. Warriors gathered in small groups to tinker with their weapons and trade stories of bravery – either of their own or of their ancestors. Hunters went through final checks of their equipment before heading into the jungle. Children played games that, through countless generations, also served to train them for their responsibilities as hunter-gatherers.

Parents with young children who were not occupied in some task socialized with each other, their children kept in harnesses wrapped to their parents' chests. The socializing was more for their children's benefit, in order to teach them the language and social customs, than for the parents'.

Norm got a few sideways stares as he walked about Hometree, but for the most part the Na'vi were too preoccupied with their tasks to pay him much attention. One female warrior upon seeing Norm, however, walked away from her social group and approached him. He braced himself for a contentious encounter, but she sat down in front of him – which only just brought her to eye-level with him – and gave him a weak smile. "Good morning, Sky Person."

He smiled back at her and said, "Good morning,—," he let his voice trail off, raised an eyebrow, and held out a hand.

She understood the gesture and held a hand to her chest. "Naw'ngié."

"Naw'ngié," he repeated with a nod, taking a moment to break down the components of her name. "What was the great sign that marked your birth?"

Her smile broadened. "There was a terrible storm when my mother went into labor. It was so powerful that she could not be taken to the river to give birth to me. But when I was brought out, the skies cleared long enough to reveal a new star in the sky. Then the storm resumed, and the star was gone when the skies cleared again in the morning."

She was old enough to have been a child while RDA's operations were in full swing. In his mind, he pictured the star she described to be an ISV's plasma wake. However, since it was the source of her namesake, he did not entertain the idea of deconstructing her story. "That's a beautiful story," he said with a smile. "You must take great pride in it."

"I do," she replied candidly, and then abruptly changed topics. "How is Tseyo coming along in his training? You and Nakllte have kept him away from the rest of us, and he is always too tired at the end of the day to talk about it."

"He's doing very well," Norm replied. "He's a quick learner, and a very good fighter."

"I know Nakllte is teaching him to be a better fighter," she said, "but what are you teaching him?"

"I'm trying to prepare him for some of the – some of the peculiarities of Earth," he replied. "Let me show you." He pulled out his camera and was grateful that he had neglected to clean its memory, even though he was nowhere near close to having it full anyway. He scrolled back to pictures he took before he left for Pandora.

Norm stopped on a picture of San Francisco's skyline, taken the morning he left for Pandora. He turned the camera so the preview screen faced Naw'ngié, and her reaction was immediate. Her eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed while she tried to process the picture. He held the camera closer to her, quietly urging her to take it, which she did.

"Are these trees?" she asked after a moment of study.

"Sort of," he replied. He walked around to stand behind her, leaned over her shoulder, and described the picture's various features.

After he had described the nature of humanity's cities, she turned the camera at odd angles and asked, "How does it all fit in here?"

He chuckled and said, "It doesn't. Think of this as a painting."

"You have very good artists," she said in awe.

"Actually, that stone" – she did not quite grasp "camera" during his earlier explanation of the picture – "does the painting. It uses light to create a perfect image."

"I don't believe you," she said with a grin.

He smiled back at her and asked, "Would you like it to paint a picture of you?"

Her grin widened, and she returned the camera to him. "What do I have to do?"

"Nothing," he said as he stepped away. "Just smile, and don't mind the light."

Norm took a second to frame his shot. Even though the morning's light poured into Hometree, Naw'ngié was seated in shadows, causing the flash to activate. There were a couple of gasps from the Na'vi who had taken notice of their interaction – and from others who were not paying attention, and so were startled by the flash – but she simply rubbed her eyes.

"That was too bright," she said, blinking, as he approached.

He offered her a weak smile as an apology, but then turned the camera to show her the picture he took. She stared at it in disbelief, and then exclaimed, "It painted my ears too big!"

Naw'ngié's friends finally wandered over, and they took a moment to observe the picture for themselves. "It's beautiful," one of them finally said.

"It made my ears too big," Naw'ngié replied.

Her friend tried to hold back laughter and said, "I'm sorry, sister, but your ears are that big."

Naw'ngié frowned, hit her friend's leg, and then stood up. "Well, Sky Person, that is a very strange stone," she said. "If your world is full of things like that, I don't know how you will have Tseyo ready."

"He will be prepared," Norm replied. "He wants to be."

She nodded, and then repeated, "My ears are not that big."

"They are," her friend replied, this time unable to keep her laughter contained, and then ducked from the expected, retaliatory hit.

Tseyo waited patiently for the first attack. He stood in the center of a ring of stones in the middle of the clearing where he had been training for more days than he cared to count. Nakllte had given him a number of new scars, and Norm had done much to alter his perceptions about what faced him on his journey. Despite the many obstacles and challenges they presented to him, he had persevered through his training.

This was the second day of this particular test, as he had failed to meet his teachers' standards the day before.

He kept his head lowered, as his test was to be able to anticipate the coming attacks without using his sight. Tseyo was beginning to get tired when he heard someone running at him from his left. He turned just as the warrior was upon him, and the two began to wrestle.

Tseyo had to throw him from the ring, and then return to his starting position to wait for the next attack. If he was forced outside the perimeter, the test would start over; if he took too long to throw his opponent out, he would exhaust himself too quickly and surely be defeated in the subsequent attack.

They struggled for a while, but Tseyo soon took the upper hand and ejected the warrior from the ring. As he ran off, Tseyo returned to the ready position – center of the circle, head down.

The next challenger came from behind him, but he used her momentum against her and easily deflected the attack.

The third warrior also came at him from behind – perhaps assuming Tseyo would not expect an attack to come from the same place twice in a row, and he was nearly right. Tseyo turned to meet him too late, and he was almost pushed out of the circle of stones by the force of the blow. However, he managed to dig his heels in, and launched into his counterattack.

The fourth warrior came from his right, and was defeated only after a prolonged fistfight. The fifth warrior came straight at him, and also came close to knocking him out of the ring; however, she lost her footing, and was easily pushed out. By the time the sixth warrior attacked from his left, Tseyo was becoming tired, but he managed to maintain a grapple long enough to trip him and eject him from the circle.

The seventh warrior tried to take advantage of Tseyo's weakness and, charging from behind, attacked him low. Though he was knocked to the ground, he was not pushed beyond the stones. Tseyo twisted his body and pushed the warrior off of him. But two times Tseyo tried to get to his feet, and both times his attacker managed to pin him to the ground. The second time Tseyo twisted his way out of the grapple, he landed a blow to the challenger's stomach. As the warrior gasped for air, Tseyo dragged him out of the ring.

Tseyo was breathing heavily when he took the starting position in anticipation of the eighth warrior. His legs burned, and his arms felt strained. He could barely hear the footfalls over his heartbeat, but he looked up to see the eighth warrior coming straight at him. The two were quickly locked in a grapple, and Tseyo was pushed to the ring's edge. Before being pushed out, he managed to grab his attacker's waist, twist, and throw him past the stone perimeter.

He returned to the center of the circle, anticipating yet another attack, when Nakllte called out, "Stop!" Tseyo looked up as the old warrior emerged from his observation post in the jungle. Nakllte approached to within a few hands' distance, and then he smiled and said, "You've done it, Tseyo. You have completed this trial."

It took Tseyo a few moments to think past the pain that consumed him and register what Nakllte had said. But shortly thereafter, the warriors who had been set against him emerged from their respective staging grounds to congratulate him on his success.

He was too overcome with exhaustion or emotion to say anything in response – he could barely smile – but he did not refuse any of his brothers' and sisters' embraces.

Nakllte put his hands on Tseyo's shoulders and said, "You have come very far. Whatever you do from here, be proud about what you have achieved."

Tseyo nodded, took a deep breath and said, "I will be most thankful for my teacher."

The old warrior smiled and embraced him as though Tseyo were his son. "You will make the people proud of you," he said. "I know it."

"To my last breath," Tseyo replied. "To my last breath."