Frag, I was getting morbid. It always happens when I'm bagged. I thought about the early night I'd been planning, and laughed. I returned the picture to my wallet, kicked the telecom to standby mode, and collapsed on the bed. Images flowed over the insides of my eyelids. Explosions, gun muzzles, targeting lasers. But mostly young, blonde women: sometimes Lolly, sometimes Juli Long. They followed me down into the dark pit of sleep.