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Neytiri had survived the birthing trauma; however, it left her body too weak to fight of a subsequent infection.

During the first few days after the onset of her infection, Jake held out hope that she would recover. But as the seriousness of her condition became apparent, he became more desperate to find a cure for her. The remaining scientists at Hell's Gate offered a number of medicines, but they admitted that they did not understand Na'vi immunology well enough, much less about the type of infection plaguing her, to guarantee success. Ultimately, however, it was Neytiri who refused treatment.

It was storming the last night she was alive. Jake stayed by her side and did what he could to make her comfortable.

Because there were no auspicious signs at their son's birth – at least none that seemed strong enough to overcome Neytiri's suffering –they agreed on a name outside of the event: Eytukan. Neytiri did what she could to care for their son in the few days she had with him, but Jake held him for most of the last night he would spend with his mother.

Eytukan was quiet for most of the evening, but a crack of thunder caused him to become restless. Neytiri took him from Jake's arms and quietly sang to him, all the while rubbing his chest. When he had calmed down, Neytiri smiled at him and performed a kind of dance with her fingers. The display mesmerized him, and when another burst of thunder echoed through Hometree, Eytukan barely seemed to notice.

Jake let out a short laugh and asked, "How am I supposed to do that?"

"You're his father," Neytiri replied. "He will draw strength from you."

"Thank you, but I meant—," Jake held up his hand and wiggled his human-like fingers.

She smiled, took his hand, and then kissed each of his fingers. "He won't care about your body, Jake. He will only care that you raise him as one of the people, to be a strong hunter like his father, and his namesake."

"And his mother." She leaned over and kissed his cheek, and he turned his head to kiss her. Jake rested his forehead against hers and whispered, "I don't know if I can do this without you."

"You will," she replied. "Do you remember what I said our first night together?"

"That you were with me, that we would be together for the rest of our lives."

Neytiri brushed her hand over his cheek. "Our energies, our spirits, are with each other. For the rest of your life."

"Your energy doesn't have your smile," he said, putting his hand over hers. "It doesn't have your laugh. It doesn't have your patience for a skxawng."

She smiled and said, "One day, after your pain is gone, you will see my smile again. You will know I have returned to Eywa, and I will have become a part of all life around you."

Jake tried not to think about how long that would take. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to commit to memory these last sensations of her touch. Neytiri, however, had another idea.

She reached behind him and took hold of his queue. "Let me become a part of you again, Jake."

He opened his eyes and took her queue in his hand, and they formed tsaheylu for the last time. Through their bond, Neytiri shared with him a string of memories she had of him. He felt her awe when the cloud of woodsprites landed on him on the night they met, her exhilaration when they first rode banshees together, and an unrestrained love for him as they lay together at that moment.

Jake shared with her the admiration he had for the strength she showed as a hunter, and the compassion she had through her deep connection with the world. He recalled a memory of her unrestrained joy as she ran through ferns, prompting dozens of fan lizards to take flight, and the pleasure she took in serving as the people's spiritual guide.

To his dismay, Neytiri did not have the strength to maintain their bond as long as they had many times before. She looked much weaker for having made the effort, but she was smiling. She touched his cheek again and whispered, "Ma Jake, I love you."

"I love you too, Neytiri."

Jake cradled Eytukan for the rest of the night while he kept vigil over Neytiri. Her breathing became shallow after she fell asleep, and she did not respond to his touch or his voice the next morning. At some point before midday, she stopped breathing, and the beautiful, intricate pattern of lights on her skin went from being merely dim to dark and indiscernible.

Jake could not remember the next few days. He only vaguely recalled her funeral, and the outpouring of grief and sympathy from the people. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months.

Until then, Jake had believed that the Na'vi's strict code of monogamy had to do with the intense pleasure they derived in bonding with their mates. In his grief, however, he understood it had as much to do with the immeasurable sense of loss that occurred when one's mate passed away.

In those first weeks after Neytiri died, Jake found himself frequently returning to her resting place, whether to seek council or to clean it after a rainstorm. He was aware that this was a distinctly human way to grieve, but he did not give much thought to how the people were perceiving it.

One day, however, Nakllte took him aside. "Olo'eyktan, perhaps you should consider delegating some more of your responsibilities while you find your balance," he encouraged, although without any enthusiasm. "The people understand what you're going through. There's no shame in grieving."

It was a wake-up call for Jake, but he refused Nakllte's advice. He did so not because he did not think he could take a break, but because he did not think he could teach his son about responsibility of he gave up his own in the face of a challenge.

As time passed, he did his best to be a father to Eytukan; and Mo'at was more than willing to serve as his mentor. Jake knew she was dealing with her own grief, having outlived her mate and both daughters, and spending time with Eytukan appeared to keep her spirits up. Too often, however, Jake felt himself unable to rise to live up to the ever increasing standards he set for himself – to be not only a good father, but continue to be a good leader.

In time, he was provided with an opportunity that he found harder to turn down. Khutxo and his pregnant mate, Fyatia, both of whom were once his rivals for power, approached him. "Fyatia and I were hoping we could care for young Eytukan from time to time," Khutxo said. "It would give us a good chance to prepare to care for our own child, and we think it would help you in your time of need."

Jake was reluctant at first, but eventually they came up with a routine which Jake felt was in Eytukan's best interests. Months later, when Fyatia gave birth to a son, they did not look for any signs. "We named him Jake," Fyatia said proudly when she presented their son to him. "It's a good name."

Night was always the loneliest time for Jake. Despite being in the constant presence of the people, and having Eytukan sleeping on his chest, the hammock felt too large without Neytiri there beside him – made worse by the fact that all his dreams concerned her.

Eytukan, however, never appeared fazed or wanting for attention. If ever he did seem lonely, he would reach for Seze, the Na'vi doll Abe had carried to Pandora and given to Neytiri. It had belonged to his daughter who, according to Abe, had insisted that he take it to Pandora, and he used it to play on Neytiri's emotions.

It had not totally worked. Neytiri accepted the gift, but she did not keep it in any place of prominence on her rack of belongings. Every once in a while, and especially as relations with Abe soured, they talked about throwing the doll away – no other person would take it as a gift – but they could never agree to it.

Shortly after Neytiri died, Mo'at encouraged Jake to gift away her belongings as a way to help him move on. Eytukan had watched him sort out her trinkets dispassionately, until the point that he took Seze from the rack. Eytukan cooed and reached for the doll. In the back of his mind, Jake cringed at the idea of his son developing an affinity for dolls, but then he gave the doll a second look.

He had assumed Neytiri had kept the doll in a lower position among her belongings because she did not care much for it. Instead, he noticed that she had made a number of modifications to it, and now figured that she was trying to hide it in plain sight. At that moment, he recalled one of several memories Neytiri had shared with him during their bonds, and realized that she was trying to fashion the doll in her sister's image.

After that realization, he had no reservations about handing it down to Eytukan.

One year after Neytiri's passing away, Jake felt that he needed to do something for himself – even if it had ancillary benefits for Eytukan. Carrying Eytukan in his harness, Jake ascended to the top of Hometree and called his banshee, Rawke. He mounted the beast, took a moment to ensure that his son's harness was firmly fastened to him, and and then they took flight around Hometree.

Once the anxiety of carrying his son into the air passed, Jake simply enjoyed the sensation of being airborne. He stayed mindful of his son's presence, and so he did not ask Rawke to do anything particularly acrobatic, but he was not afraid of aggressive dives and climbs. He took time to appreciate the landscape and the delicate dance of the other moons across the face of Polyphemus.

The sun was setting when Jake finally took Rawke back to Hometree. After he dismounted, he only managed two steps before he felt Eytukan moving restlessly in his harness.

Jake's heart skipped a beat, worried that he had been too aggressive or out for too long. But when he took Eytukan from his harness, to Jake's surprise, he saw that his son was not crying, but laughing.

Immediately, Jake's worry melted away, and he laughed along with his son. "You liked that, didn't you?" he asked as he tickled Eytukan's belly. That's when he saw it: Eytukan had Neytiri's smile. And then in the same instant, he felt the sorrow which had consumed him dissipate, replaced by a presence he had not felt in months.

Neytiri was with him.

Jake was not lost in the moment, however, as Eytukan continued to laugh and reach out to Jake, in his own way wanting to share in Jake's joy of flight. He brought his son close and kissed his forehead. "One day, you're going to have your own ikran," Jake said with a smile. "And then your dad's going to show you some real stunts." Eytukan laughed in approval.

After that moment, Jake became more confident in his childrearing abilities – if nothing else, he was driven by the desire to see his son grow up to become a master banshee rider. He used twigs, sticks, and ribbons to build Eytukan a toy banshee, as all Na'vi children had; and whenever Eytukan became fussy, Jake would use the Seze doll and banshee toy together to reenact their increasingly frequent flights; and it always worked to calm him down.

When Eytukan was old enough to begin walking, Jake found that he took after both his parents' headstrongness. Still too young to talk, he would show his determination by running everywhere. He became so well known for running everywhere that Jake was often encouraged by people to change his son's name. Kxllyo, Tulwé, and Nì'atul were popular suggestions, but he respectfully declined the advice.

A couple of years later, around the time Eytukan was beginning to play with bolas, Mo'at passed away from nothing more sinister than her age – a rarity among the Na'vi. As with Neytiri, Jake was by her side to hold vigil in her final moments; and, like Neytiri, Mo'at faced her death without trepidation. Her deep connection with Eywa had given her little to fear.

In their last conversation, she took his hands in hers and said, "I am very glad to have known you, Jakesully. You gave my daughter happiness, and have shown yourself to be a true leader of the people." She smiled and added, "Neytiri would be proud of how you are raising your child."

"I have you to thank for a lot of that," he replied.

She shook her head. "You were always capable of being a father and a leader," she said. "But I thank you for letting me be a part of young Eytukan's life."

Although he had stopped making regular visits to Neytiri's resting place, he had carefully plotted the burials of other Na'vi in order to leave a space next to hers. It was there that he laid Mo'at to rest. He knew both the mother and daughter would have lectured him that it did not matter where their bodies rested, be he felt it was an important gesture all the same.

Months later, Jake was teaching Eytukan and other children how to use a bow. At dinner that night, he noticed Eytukan seemed distracted. "Are you okay?"

His son nodded and said, "I'm just thinking about your hands, father."

Jake raised his brow. He had no doubts about where his son was going with the conversation, but he asked anyway. "What's so interesting about my hands?"

"When you were showing us the bow today, I saw that you have different hands." Eytukan crawled over to Jake's side of the hammock and sat beside him. He took Jake's hand turned it so his palm faced up, then set his own hand on top of it. "See? You have one more finger."

Jake smiled and said, "Yes I do."

"Why?"

"It's a very long story," Jake replied. "But, for now, let's just say it's how I was made."

"Why wasn't I made with it?"

Jake hesitated to answer. Instead, he tried to turn it into a teaching moment. "Let me ask you, do you think it makes me a different hunter?"

Eytukan shook his head.

"Do you think it makes me a different person?"

Again, Eytukan shook his head.

"Think of my extra fingers like the stripes and lights on our skin. It's just something that makes me unique. You should look at people for their spirit, not their bodies."

"I know, father," Eytukan said. "I see you as a person, but I just noticed your fingers. That's all."

Jake patted his son's hand and smiled. "Well, don't think too hard about them. Now, finish your talioang. He gave his energy to you, so you should respect him."

Eytukan nodded, crawled back to his side of the hammock, and then resumed his meal. Jake knew that, at some point, he was going to have to explain to his son his connection to the Sky People. In this moment, however, he did not need to know that his father came from a far away world, and the long journey which occurred that led up to this moment in time.

He only needed to know that his father was there for him when he needed him to be.

"Abe, what is wrong with you?!" Krysta demanded. "I mean, I don't have words for how stupid this is."

"It's not as bad as you think," he offered.

After Krysta regained consciousness – she was only out for a couple of minutes – she demanded that his team stay in the garage while they had an emergency "family meeting." The meeting's location was the master bedroom on the second floor, the farthest possible point away from the garage in the house.

"Don't tell me what I think," she said. "You don't have a clue what I'm thinking right now."

"You could tell me—," he said with a grin.

"You brought a fucking alien home! An actual. Fucking. Alien!"

"Mom!" Natalie exclaimed, clearly surprised by Krysta's vulgarity.

Abe, on the other hand, was less surprised. He chuckled and said, "No, that's pretty much what I thought you were thinking."

"Abe, this isn't funny," Krysta said. "We have an alien in our house, and I'm going to guess that he doesn't have any paperwork to be here."

He nodded. "You're right about that."

"How did you even get him here?"

"We stayed off the roads, and he helped us jump the community's fence," Abe said with a shrug.

"Is he nice?" Natalie asked.

"That's not important right now, Natalie," Krysta responded tersely, her focus still squarely on Abe. "What was going through your head in bringing him here?"

"Where else were we going to go?"

She just looked at him like he was speaking gibberish. Eventually she shook her head and asked, "Why is he here at all?"

For the better part of the next hour – longer than he expected, due to Krysta's interruptions – he detailed his plan to his family.

When he finished, Krysta again looked at him as though nothing he said had registered with her. "I think you have radiation poisoning or some kind of space-induced dementia," she said flatly. "Abe, seriously, I think you need to see a doctor."

"I don't have radiation sickness, and I'm not losing my mind," Abe replied coolly, now well drained of the energy needed to make an effort at levity.

"Then why are you doing this?" she asked – almost begged him to explain. "This doesn't make any sense."

Abe was about to explain himself, but then Natalie asked, "Is it because they tried to make you hurt the Na'vi?"

He raised an eyebrow and asked, "What makes you think that?"

She took a deep breath, looked at Krysta, and said, "Mom, I was awake the last time I was in the hospital. I heard you and Tom talking about Daddy's job, and why he was fired."

Krysta looked like she was about to faint again. Abe was not sure what event Natalie was referring to, although he was sure he would learn soon enough. But in the absence of a response from Krysta, Abe looked at Natalie and said, "I was fired because someone on my team thought he had an opportunity to help himself, and he took it."

"So, you were hurting the Na'vi?"

"No," he said defensively. "I was not hurting the Na'vi."

"Then why is the company mad at you?"

"It's complicated, Sweetie," he replied. "I promise when this is all over, I'll explain all of it to you – to both of you. Right now, though, I need you to trust me."

Krysta took a deep breath and said, "Natalie, I want to talk to your father in private."

She nodded and headed for the door, when Abe said quickly, "Do not talk to the others."

Natalie hesitated, but sighed and said, "Okay, Daddy," and then closed the door.

Krysta waited a second to ensure Natalie had gone before she slapped him. "Do you have any idea what we've been through because of this? Do you have any idea how much you're asking of us now?"

Abe rubbed his cheek and replied, "Slapping me won't help me appreciate it, Krysta."

"That fat son of a bitch came after us with everything after Parker ratted you out," she said angrily. "He sued us to try and recover your salary. He bought up the lab where Natalie's clinical trial was taking place and fired the researchers. I started my own security consulting to try and generate some income, and he sued me for violating their intellectual property!

"And then at the end of all of that, after I sank into debt fighting off his lawyers, Natalie relapsed. Thank God we had Tom looking out for us, because otherwise I would have had to sell the house to pay her medical bills.

"Now, here you come, talking about how you have a brilliant plan to take down RDA. In all the time it took you to come up with this plan, did you stop to think about what might happen to us if you fail – in the very, very likely event that you'll fail?"

Abe took a deep breath and said, "Honey, I can't imagine what you've been through, but…"

"Answer me!" she shouted. "What's going to happen to us if your brilliant scheme falls apart?"

He was taken aback by her anger and pessimism. He remembered her as being a risk taker, bold and unwilling to let anybody get the better of her. But whatever happened to her in the years that it took him to get back home had dramatically shifted her outlook.

Abe could only muster a simple, but essentially pure response. "Nothing good."

"'Nothing good?'" She was incredulous. "Abe, you'll be branded a terrorist! Do you know what they're doing to terrorists these days?"

"It can't be much worse than what they were doing to them when I left," he replied.

Krysta ignored his comment and continued, "Even if you're successful, it's not like people are just going to ignore your role in RDA's hierarchy – or mine, as long ago as it was. I mean, if you take down RDA, they're going to want to take down everybody who's ever been an executive there." She shook her head and said, "What about Tom? Does he deserve to suffer after all he did for us while you were gone?"

"I know this is not a perfect plan," Abe said. "But if the chairman isn't stopped, if he isn't held accountable, we're all going to be worse off."

She stepped to within inches of him and said, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you believe that, Abe."

He put his hands on her cheeks, looked her in the eyes, and said, "Krysta, I know it. This isn't about me or RDA, this is about protecting Natalie's future."

"Then you promise me that she's not going to suffer if you make a mistake," she replied, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Promise me that after all of this is over, she's going to have a future to look forward to."

"I promise," he said. "I promise she'll be all right."

After what seemed like an unreasonably long wait, Abe returned to the garage. Norm noticed that his right cheek was much redder than his left.

"Okay, team, welcome to my home," he said. "If you'll all make your way to the living room, my wife, Krysta, will get you set up in your rooms." He nodded at Norm and said, "If you'll have Tseyo follow me, we'll get him squared away."

From what Norm had seen of the house's exterior, he knew to expect something palatial compared to the living conditions most people had. Even so, as he followed Abe into the main part of the house, he managed to be surprised.

The house, perhaps to Tseyo's relief, was built with tall ceilings. Although Norm noticed Tseyo had to duck to avoid some of the ceiling fixtures, he otherwise had about a foot of space to the ceiling. The dining room and kitchen together could take up as much space as an inner city, one bedroom apartment. The living room, where Krysta received the rest of the group, had large floor-to-ceiling windows – and, as the room was left open to the second floor, the windows were almost twenty feet tall.

Norm assumed it had a great view of the hills which surrounded Livermore, but per Abe's instructions, the drapes had been pulled closed.

Krysta looked at Abe and asked, "How do you want to pair them up?"

"Dawn and Amy upstairs, Doctors Patel and Cook in the front guest room, Norm and Luke in the porch guest room," he replied without hesitation, avoiding any formal introductions by simply pointing at people as he called out their names.

Norm, however, had his own ideas, and asked, "Why can't I room with Amy?"

Abe looked at Amy and asked, "Colonel, would you be okay with that?" She nodded. "Dawn, Luke, are you two okay rooming together? I'd like to avoid having to put anybody on the couch."

The two exchanged a glance, shrugged, and Luke said, "I'm okay with it."

"Same here," Dawn added.

"Okay. Dawn and Luke upstairs, Norm and Amy in the porch room." Krysta nodded, but then gave Tseyo a wary glare before she directed people to their rooms.

Norm continued to follow Abe into a hallway, where he opened a door to the basement. Though the stairwell down was cramped, the basement, like the ground floor, had just enough headroom to accommodate Tseyo. It was windowless, carpeted, and equipped like a high-end entertainment room. Norm assumed this was Abe's "man cave."

"Jeez, Abe, it must have been difficult for you to leave all this behind," Norm said as devoid of sympathy as he could muster.

Abe just shook his head – less in response to his assertion, he figured, and more in reaction to his tone – and walked towards a door. "Back here is my study and a private, full bath…"

He was interrupted by a shriek when he opened the door, which was followed quickly by, "Daddy!"

Abe slammed the door, clearly surprised. "Sweetie, what are you doing down here?" he asked through the door.

"This is my room, Daddy."

As quickly as he was startled, now Abe looked confused. "What happened to my study?"

"It's my old room, now."

"Why'd you move?"

"I needed more room for my rehabilitation equipment."

"Shit," Abe muttered. He looked at Norm and said, "I'm going to have to think of something else for him."

"Did you bring the Na'vi down here?" Natalie asked. "I don't mind if he stays here."

"I do!" Abe replied quickly. "He's going to stay in the living room."

Norm snorted and said, "You're going to make Tseyo come all this way just to crash on your couch, or the floor? Good luck getting him to go along with it."

Natalie emerged from her room – Norm noticed she walked with a limp – and said, "Daddy, if you're trying to protect me from the big, bad alien, I think you're too late. He's already in the house." She then looked at Tseyo, smiled and, much to Norm's surprise, said in very good Na'vi, "Welcome to our home."

Tseyo also looked surprised, but he nodded his head and replied with a faint smile, "Thank you."

Abe looked the most surprised, if not confused, of all of them and, bringing the conversation back to English, asked Natalie, "When did you learn Na'vi?"

She raised an eyebrow and said, "I told you I was studying Na'vi, like, five years ago. Remember when Tom opened the wormhole for us?"

"Oh," Abe replied meekly. He sighed and said, "I'm sorry, Natalie, but our conversation was so short…"

"I know," she interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him. "That was pretty rude of me to run out like that," she said. She sighed and looked down. "I didn't really appreciate what was going on at the time, and I've felt bad about it ever since."

Abe smiled and gave her a hug. "It's okay, Sweetie. I'm not upset." Natalie smiled as she pulled him in closer.

Norm coughed into his hand and said, "Not to be rude myself, but Tseyo's still covered in some pretty pungent mud. Does he have a bathroom to use, or not?"

Abe took a deep breath and asked Natalie, "Can he use your shower?"

She nodded. "Just let me get Vertex upstairs."

"Who's Vertex?"

"My dog."

Abe looked at Norm and asked, "You've told Tseyo about dogs, right?"

He nodded but replied, "We might want to step back, though. I'll guess that he's going to cause the dog to freak out."

Sure enough, as soon as Vertex emerged from Natalie's room, the canine went ballistic. There was a moment where Norm was sure that he would escape Natalie's hold and charge at Tseyo – and Tseyo seemed to as well, as his tail lashed and he reached for the knife on his belt – but she managed to keep him at a distance.

Once he was upstairs, Abe left Norm and Tseyo alone to get situated. However, he left them with two firm commands, "He doesn't come upstairs unless I say so, and he doesn't touch a thing in my daughter's room."

Norm had patiently walked him through the intricacies of human bathing, having apologized for not teaching him earlier. "I honestly didn't think we were going to end up in a house," he said.

Tseyo enthusiastically washed off the disgusting mud camouflage, although he had to sit on his knees in order to come close to getting his full body exposed to the flow of water – and even then it only hit his chest. He was pleased that the water did not have the same putrid smell as the so-called river which had been the source of his mud coating, but he could still tell that it was not as pure as the water back home.

However, to the Sky People's credit, it was at least as warm as the water he was used to bathing in.

Although Tseyo had no problems with Norm staying nearby while he bathed, Norm had quietly stepped into the sleeping alcove. He resolved himself to figure out why Sky People were so adverse to both conversation and togetherness, but in the meantime he did not want to wait for Norm to say something. "When you said Sky People live in enclosed places," Tseyo said in the course of his cleaning, "I did not think you meant in hives."

"You think this is a hive?" Norm said back.

Tseyo chuckled and replied, "Maybe it isn't so bad. Better than a burrow."

"T'ngyute has more resources, and a higher status, than most other Sky People," Norm replied. "He and his family get to have more space."

"You sound unhappy about that."

"I am," Norm said after a short pause.

"Why?"

"I don't think he earned it fairly," he replied. "And I don't think it's fair that one person can have so much more than other people who are suffering."

"But your people let him have it anyway."

"People like T'ngyute make the rules that everyone else has to follow."

Tseyo furrowed his brow and asked, "T'ngyute is olo'eyktan?"

"No," Norm replied. "He – people like him – are just more powerful than the rest of us."

He frowned, but decided not to ask any more questions. Tseyo had to wipe the water droplets from his mask in order to see. He looked over himself and said, "I think I've got it all off."

Norm, still averting his eyes, reached in and turned the stones – knobs – to cut the water flow. He handed him a textile and said, "Wipe the water off with this before you step out."

"Why? It's water. It will dry on its own."

"Sky People get upset if you drip water around their homes."

Again, Tseyo frowned, but he did as instructed. When he gave Norm his assurances that he was dry again, Norm gave him his loincloth and other accessories back. They returned to the main alcove, where Norm helped him get his hammock set up. They crudely tied it to some fixtures on the walls, but it held up when Tseyo sat in it.

"What do we do now, teacher?"

"Get some rest," Norm said. "You've had a very long night, and I'm sure you're going to need your strength for whatever surprises T'ngyute has planned next."

Tseyo took a deep breath and nodded. "I wish there was not so much waiting involved," he said. "The more I sit still, the more anxious I become."

Norm raised his brow and asked, "Are you okay?"

He took a moment to think about it, to search his heart, and then shook his head. "This place is so strange to me," he replied. "I'm not scared, but I don't know if I should be."

Norm nodded and replied, "I can't say that I think it was a good idea for T'ngyute to bring you here, but I think I can say that you're safe here. Try not to think too hard about what's going to happen next."

Tseyo sighed. "I don't know that I can." He paused and added, "I still don't know that I trust T'ngyute."

"We've already come this far, Tseyo," he said. "We just have to do our best to manage, now." Before Tseyo could respond, Norm smiled and said, "You're probably feeling more nervous than usual because you're tired. I'm sure you'll feel better with some sleep."

"I think you're right," he replied. He forced himself to smile and said, "Thank you, teacher."