The interior of the vessel was entirely dark, thanks to the closed blinds that covered the transparent walls. There was not a glimmer of light, no lessening of the intense shadows. No outside sound, though fire and fury must be all around them. His stomach gave a queasy lurch, and he had the oddest sensation of gentle, floating movement. He wished they could find a miner’s light amongst the supplies the madman Griffin had packed aboard. “Jane? Are you all right?” Wells scrambled about, bumping elbows, nearly sticking his left thumb in Huxley’s eye. “Sorry, Professor.” The older man’s gruff voice came from within inches of his ear. “She’s behind me, Wells. We both appear to be intact.” “You can inspect me later, H.G. Do you think it’s safe to go outside yet?” In the darkness, Huxley made a skeptical noise. “There may still be fire and smoke from the concussion. Nevertheless, I’m pleased to learn, albeit accidentally, that Cavor’s armor is exceptionally effective.
