In the room left behind, he's doing his best not to think about his fate. Because the Psiioniic knows that if he starts, he won't be able to stop. He'll be locked inside his own head, useless to anyone and everyone and trying not to just scream from the thought of it all. Even when he was nothing more than a slave, paranoid and a coward, he still had at least a little freedom. But as a Helmsman, as Her Helmsman...

Sonica wouldn't be the only one sick on the floor.

So the Psiioniic tries to occupy himself. He remembers her homecity, remembers visiting with Signless to spread the word, to try and see if there were any higherblooded traders who might be interested in helping the cause. It wasn't that strange, really; Signless could talk the moons down from the sky, really, if it so pleases him. Psiioniic is certain of this, as certain as his own two eyes. So he whispers to her, telling her about the traders, the river, who he saw and if she recognized any of the names- things to make her think. Things to keep his mind busy.