​     WHOOSHAW!

     Skip perceived the mental blast as a solid wall of mind force that slammed into him.

     Then, out he went.

     He regained consciousness still at the dining table, his face buried in a bowl of kloval.

     Kloval even smelled wonderful.

​     He couldn't help himself.

​     Before he did anything else, before he even opened his eyes, he swallowed that kloval down.

     And damn, damn, damn! it was good! Skip successfully fought the urge to seek out another bowl of kloval with his fingers to swallow down only because of something else he felt...

​     which was drained.

     So drained that, for a moment anyway, he didn't feel sure he had the energy to pull his head out of the now empty bowl he'd passed out in. He managed, but...

     He raised his head and opened his eyes to find his vision a little wonky. If he focused on someone or something, he could see them clearly enough, but, in general, everything seemed kind of fuzzy and indistinct. Skip shook his head. How long was this going to go on? He slapped himself a good one in the face. There, that was a little better.

    He looked around to see that everyone else in the cafeteria was in more or less the same shape he was in. 

     Many shook their heads.

     Even the security bots all seemed to look at each other, like, now what? What are we supposed to do now? 

CONTINUE