After a moment the door control status indicators in Morn’s cabin winked green. Nick had unlocked her. She hurried out into the passageway before he could change his mind. She should have gone to sickbay. The pain in her head abated too slowly: each beat of her heart knifed through her as if she were in the grip of a cerebral hemorrhage. At alarming intervals her vision slid double; and the effort required to bring her eyes back to single focus made her sweat and tremble with old, familiar nausea. Stress or numbness caused her fingers to tingle. Maybe one of her occipital bones was cracked. Or maybe the top of her spine—or her brain itself—was bruised. If she developed a hematoma inside her skull, or along her spinal cord, she might drift into paralysis as the swelling grew. Nevertheless she headed for the bridge, not sickbay. She was urgent to get her hands on the data board. Without the support of her zone implant, she was so weak that she felt invalid, hardly able to walk.
