Kierk saw someone go down in his peripheral vision, and then in front of him a bicycle stand, and with no space on either side of him to move out of the way he had to jump clear over it, landing wildly before being quickly enveloped again. He saw the form of the woman running next to him stumble and he reached out and grabbed her hand, yanking her forward and keeping her on her feet. They ran holding hands and when Kierk glanced over it was a middle-aged blonde woman who looked like a suburban housewife, her hair up in a bun, her mouth a thin line, her eyes terrified. Her hand gripped his like a vice and they balanced each other amid the surging motion until everyone burst like a flood out of that thin street and the dull beast that had known only a single feeling in its brief life dissipated.

As Kierk and Mike would learn the next day, at that very instant their names were being called at the conference, and heads were turning in the well-lit and calm main room, a slow stir among a well-dressed crowd. The two of them had won the best student poster prize, but with no one to accept, the conference organizers had finally, and awkwardly, given it to the runner-up.