I swiped a sleeve across my mouth. Jesus, I must have slept wrong; I had a crick in my neck. I’d catch a shower and hit the mess hall, and…
And then I remembered what had happened.
“Doc?” How long ago had I blacked out? Minutes? Hours? “Doc!”
I struggled to unfasten the straps that had kept me safely in place in order to get to him. The Emmy had come to rest at an angle, the port side lower than the starboard, and I staggered to where Doc’s seat was still reclined.
“Oh, my head,” he moaned. “I’ve got the world’s worst headache.”
“Is that all? Stand in line.” I was so relieved he was still alive I could have kissed him. He had about twenty-five years on me, and the kind of pressure that had weighed down my chest could have damaged his heart.
“What the hell happened?” Ed moaned.
“You’
