||Baker Sipapu 55 along in the 'copter, and Rain tried to get me through ahead of time. She pulled me into the kiva, and the tree that they used for a ladder broke and let me fall, crashing to the floor. I broke my leg again, and was in shock, but that doesn't excuse what I did. When I saw that Rain had disappeared into the sipapu, and my arm and hand had also become invisible, I lost all faith, and broke her clasp to bring my arm back. When it became visible again, I was reassured, and turned back to enter the sipapu, and it was closed to me. Completely, irreversibly closed. My moment of doubt, of un-faith had cost me all that I held dear. Don't you see?" He spoke in agony. "I'm not so sure we do," Jim answered. "If you came so close to going through the sipapu, why can't you go back and do it now. Surely you have suffered enough penance this winter to pay for your doubt." "Oh, I have done penance, all right. But the time is gone, you can't go back. I simply failed, and I have to go on without Rain as long as I live. I feel her in my hands, against my cheek, touching my shoulder--and yet she does not seem close. The only thing I can do is dedicate my life to her--to her people, to try to make their fine, delicate culture understandable to my people. In that way I can serve her humbly." "You'll find someone else, you are still young," Jim offered.