There was a large coffee pot nearby that saw heavy use as well. Two of them actually, and nobody was drinking decaf, it appeared.Most of the morning talk around the table was about the weather, and here I was able to hold my own already. One thing I knew, having been flying on several different worlds, was that people who were going to put themselves in the air needed to know what the air around them had planned for them. That meant weather, in the general sense, and the weather in a more specific sense, wind speed, direction, visibility, cloud ceilings and 'conditions', such as storms in the area, air temperatures, you name it. Anything that could be known in advance was considered valuable.I had spent a little time in the intervening week learning the ins and outs of reading weather charts and interpreting weather broadcasts. I got these skills from the minds of several willing and Awakened McKesson pilots. If I'd wanted to get flight certified the old fashioned way, they'd have. But I couldn't stop myself. Suddenly I got up and found the vial. I went to the kitchen sink to pour it down the drain. It felt so warm in my hand that it almost hurt me. I couldn't make myself to throw it out. So I came back to living room and laid down the couch. Soon I was sleeping.When I woke up it was dark outside, I must have slept about three hours. There was no sight of mom, she must be still locked in her room. I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine and made asandwich. Then like in a dream I opened the vial. One, two, three drops and I poured the rest inside the glass. I put them on a tray and went upstairs. I knocked on her door."Mom are you ok?"It took a minute until she answered. "Yes John, I need some alone time." Ok mom, I just brought you a sandwich and some wine. I'm leaving the tray here." I said innocently. I turned back and went downstairs. I sat there in the living room waiting. I had left the final decision toher. She could come down or stay in her.
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