Sheridan knew why it had suddenly chosen to make its appearance; it was always the ready companion of a dream. But for Sheridan this expedition bore none of the illusions of a dream. It was a Hail-Mary pass, a last ditch effort, Sheridan’s last stand. For dreams required faith and carried a price he could no longer could afford. Sheridan began to think on these things when, from the depths of his emptiness, a melody arose to accompany his poignant reflection:

I feel the heat, I see the sun’s rising,
Could this be a dream, Is this a new beginning
No more night, no more pain
No more tears, no more crying
The oasis awaits, a mirage never arriving
How long, must we wait
How long, this wandering
How much, must be paid
To the shadow of the dream?