It was a good throb, the kind that told me I was alive. I had that much going for me. Not much else. There was something blocking my eyes and muffing my hearing. My breathing was being stifled both in and out. A hood; had to be. I tensed my arms and legs, joint by joint. Nothing felt broken or damaged, but someone had managed to secure me really well. My arms and legs were each strapped down to whatever platform pressed against my back. Other straps pulled tight across my chest and hips and knees. They’d left my neck free, not bothering to lay a strap across my forehead. They’d left me upright - I could tell by the ease with which I swallowed - and I didn’t feel particularly drugged. I strained to listen through my hood for any noises. A soft electrical hum cycled and an air scrubber clicked on and off slowly. I pegged it as a ship. Something big, too. Big enough to have space to leave one woman in an empty room. I couldn’t, of course, tell how big the room was, not for certain.
