Something whines at me and I’m bolting upright, reaching instinctively for my H & K. Then I try to reswallow my heart, and tell the wire to go back to sleep. The sound was my watch alarm, which means it’s 0945. It also means I actually managed to catch some sleep even though the aches in my joints and the fog in my head seem to deny it. I check myself over—gear and body parts—to make sure no enterprising squatter has made off with anything while I was nulled out. Deciding that I’m intact, I hobble over to my bike, swing aboard, and we’re off again.