Something light whacked into Dinah’s head. Through the tears she vaguely saw a white object caroming off the nuclear reactor’s user-friendly control panel. Pawing it out of the air, her hands recognized it as a packet of tissues. A high-value black market item. She tore it open, pulled out a few sheets, and began the somewhat delicate process of soaking up the tear-globs without smashing them into sprays of equipment-shorting droplets.