Chapter 17

Indeed, his self-image was like that of a virtuous maiden in one of the ancient tales he had read, facing the loss of her virtue, vainly and willingly cast away on a transient tide of passion.

It went against everythingCarl believed in. He felt as if he was suffering from a bad hangover, except that the pain was not physical but mental. When Jamal came to take him to the Control Room for a bit of training, he took one look at Carl and shook his head.

“If you don’t feel up to it—”

Carl stared at the man, feeling his face burning. There was nothing in Jamal’s expression to suggest he knew what had happened; it was Carl’s own guilt in operation.

“Uh—sure.”