Chapter Seventeen
I’ve never welcomed the bodiless existence of Headspace as much as I do now.
Maybe I can now think of something—though my thoughts boil down to one simple mantra.
I don’t want to lose any more organs.
I really don’t.
But I also can’t tell them where Rasputin is.
I’d rather live without a spleen and tonsils.
Ignoring the shapes around me, I float until I calm down to mere panic levels, and then I reach out to Rasputin.
He doesn’t answer, which is probably for the best.
I’m so freaked out right now that I’d be tempted to tell him what’s happening. And then he might want to sacrifice himself for my sake.
I float some more and do my best to calm down further. Then I try reaching out to the bannik again.
It doesn’t work.
Just for completeness, I try to think of Nos
