They were now loaning five glove-tubes to play some sort of a tennis, except for the ball was thrown and caught with a glove with a tube instead of a racket. The juniors quickly helped the elders to choose the gloves that fit them just right, telling them at the same time all the rules and aims of the game in great details, while Trinat didn't even hear them, with a small pair of gloves having drawn attention of a corner of his eye, and an impulse having rapidly reached its destination: such pair of gloves would perfectly fit Goe... He was now standing near a glove stand, and hesitantly, nearly devoutly, took them and was desperately trying to make them fit his large hands, as if sillily and comically craving to feel Goe's hands on his... Even if he didn't remember, the feel of his touch, how, why, what it was... But he wanted to grab Goe's hand now, to just confirm it was just a bad, very bad dream up until now, to just sense his presence again, as before, as always before—even if it wasn't, even if it was just his fantasies, his life felt to have begun only with Goe's presence in it, and no one else's... Trinat wanted to squeeze, squish, smash Goe's hand so hard to just hear his voice anew, to just sense the physical sound waves of it, his peculiar accent even when he was speaking Lojban: his r's closer to l's, with his strange way of accentuating words, and adding ne and yo at the end of sentences—to just hear Goe how much it hurt, how much he was now asking Trinat to stop, how much Goe would be at his—the last thought made him shudder at himself and he unconsciously stepped back, the gloves falling on the stand with a sound of a broken glass; he felt everyone's eyes devouring and licking him, with saliva and blood all over him: cursed forever... Then he felt someone touch his shoulder—and jumped at the sensation, turning to the source of it, and seeing one of the juniors preoccupiedly looking at him with a pity in his eyes; that made the anger start boiling in Trinat's imaginary veins and he only thought Don't pity me, I must be strong enough to overcome it: Or what a chief police officer am I if I can't tame even my own self?(!)
Trinat just shook the senior's hand off his police armor and picked up the biggest glove without even taking a smallest look at it. While the junior officer was just standing there, as if paralyzed, not knowing what to do... Two other officers came up to him quite soon and threw a glance at Trinat who was getting out of the equipment room, while others were hurrying up after him—and it occurred to one of the three remaining ones that there was something off about their chief for sure: and that it all strangely started with Goe's death... Was he grieving that much over him? And... Was he really enjoying the only weekends in their lifetime? He rather seemed to endure it all—for what though? To catch the bomb gang...? And... Revenge them? For Goe...
It all became suddenly clear to the officer and he told his speculations to the two others and they nodded: they decided they'd try to help him so that he wouldn't notice, to not hurt his pride ever again—and got out of the room to catch up with the others on the field, who already were aimlessly throwing the ball, even without keeping track of the score, even without them...