Feeling unsteady as the poison continued to burn his soft tissues, he gripped a plascrete bulwark for support. He studied the last stand he had assembled on short notice and hoped it would hold. Finally, Xavier said, Now that these towers are held and protected, we can go out and hunt down some of our attackers. Are you ready, Cuarto Powder?
 
Powder brightened, and soldiers cheered. Several men fired their weapons into the air, ready to charge pell-mell into the destruction. Like a rider at the reins of a willful horse, Xavier held them back. Was Ghanima lost in that observer–world where he had watched and listened, learning what he had required from his father?