felt. As he swam to the surface of consciousness, breaking the wave with a feeling that he was going to puke, J.B. couldn’t see a thing. The first ripple of panic said that his eyes had been damaged, and that his vision was screwed. Maybe it was because of his glasses, but that was always the first thing that came to mind, and he was quick to squash it. Particularly as his vision became accustomed to the gloom around him. Think clearly, Dix…Night was closing in when the pack pushed you in this direction. And then there’s the angle at which you lie—a pit. A simple pit trap, and because that rad-blasted wag jockey was so jolt-wired he’d driven straight into it. So that’s most of the reason that it was so black in here…What about the wag’s emergency electrics? In most wags this well-equipped, a backup should at least provide lighting from which the crew could continue to work. Another thing that Eula hadn’t seen to properly, or anyone else in this half-assed crew.
