Oliver was hauled out of Pymous' command tent by the Adjudicator, back into the cold night air. Goosebumps rose on his skin and he shivered once, convulsively. But he did not feel the cold, really; he felt like he had sunken down under a deep sea, drifting far, far away.
Oliver barely noticed where the Adjudicator was taking him. He followed numbly, stumbling numerous times, only kept from falling by his captor's iron grip on his arm. Dimly, he became aware that Zarine and Golmul were talking. But he could not hear them clearly. There was a ringing noise in Oliver's ears, pure and unending, that had begun back in Pymous' chambers, which seemed to drown them out.
He could not bring himself to try very hard to understand. It hardly seemed to matter. He stared sightlessly at the ground,
