Without hesitation, I grabbed the central couch. “This is mine,” I declared. “Grab a couch if you can. If not, find some spot as comfortable as you can and hunker down in it.”
“Why?” Donny Nakamura asked. “What’s going to happen?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted, “but you’ll want to be secure when it does.”
I looked around automatically for a seatbelt of some sort to strap myself in. There wasn’t one. The seat was leathery and felt comfortable, though, built for a body just slightly wider and shorter than mine.
Only once I was securely in my couch did I look around the room. The wall still had dials and gauges, but now, directly in front of me like a big flat-screen TV, was a large wall monitor. It showed a deep blackness powdered profusely with spots of white, zillions of them. The black
