She took a shivering breath.

Not everything had gone wrong, of course. Learning about the Staff of Blue was an unalloyed good, and Kira hoped with every fiber of her being that she hadn’t misunderstood and that finding it would lead to a favorable outcome. Even so, the thought did nothing to reduce the guilt that gnawed at her.

Kira couldn’t bring herself to rest, tired though she was. Her mind was too active, too wired. Instead, she activated her cabin’s console and checked the news on Weyland (it was exactly as Akawe had said) and then started to read everything she could find about the nightmares. It wasn’t much. They were so recently arrived both in 61 Cygni and elsewhere, no one had been able to do a proper analysis of them. At least not at the time of the broadcasts that had reached Cygni.

She’d been sitting there for perhaps half an hour when a message from Gregorovich appeared in the corner of her vision:

The crew is gathering in the mess hall, if you wish to partake, O Spiky Meatbag. – Gregorovich

Kira closed the message and kept reading.

Not fifteen minutes later, a loud pounding on the door jolted her. From outside came Nielsen’s voice. “Kira? I know you’re there. Come join us. You need to eat.”

Kira’s mouth was so dry, it took her three tries before she was able to muster enough moisture to answer: “No thanks. I’m fine.”

“Nonsense. Open up.”

“… No.”

Metal clanked and screeched as the wheel outside the pressure door turned, and then the door itself swung open. Kira sat back and crossed her arms, somewhat offended. Out of habit, she’d thrown the privacy lock. No one should have been able to barge in on her, even though she knew half the crew probably could override the lock.

Nielsen entered and looked down at her with an exasperated expression. Defensive, Kira forced herself to meet the woman’s gaze.

“Let’s go,” said Nielsen. “The food’s warm. It’s just microwaved rations, but you’ll feel better with something in you.”

“It’s okay. I’m not hungry.”

Nielsen studied her for a moment and then closed the door to the cabin and—to Kira’s surprise—sat on the other end of the bed. “No, it’s not okay. How long are you going to stay in here?”

Kira shrugged. The surface of the Soft Blade prickled. “I’m tired, that’s all. Just don’t want to see anyone.”

“Why? What are you afraid of?”

For a moment Kira wasn’t going to answer. Then, defiant, she said, “Myself. Alright? Happy now?”

Nielsen seemed unimpressed. “So you screwed up. Everyone screws up. What matters is how you deal with it. Hiding isn’t the answer. It never is.”

“Yeah, but…” Kira had difficulty finding the words.

“But?”

“I don’t know if I can control the Soft Blade!” Kira blurted out. There. She’d said it. “If I get angry again or excited or … I don’t know what might happen and…” She trailed off, miserable.