Her mind was a jumble of impressions—falling, landing, splashing, gasping, searching through her body for pain and not feeling anything too outrageous. Everything worked, nothing hurt beyond bearing. Then the oozing feel of mud.
Martia’s first coherent thought was, Oh yuck!
Her next was, This had been a nice suit.
Her third thought was, I owe Dr. Martindale a big thank-you. Without those nano-lase treatments, my contacts would have popped out into this muck.
Not until her fourth thought did she come to, Where the hell am I, anyway?
She pushed up on her arms and shook her head, only half-successfully, to get some of the moisture out of her face. She couldn’t see anything. She blinked rapidly several times. She still couldn’t see anything. Was she still in the blackened elevator? But th
