[pshrynk]

Vera sat in the cargo bay. She was getting tired of being the third wheel in this pantomime. After all, she was top bill, wasn't she? She struggled with her bonds and found, once again, that they were tight and not budging. The Japanese sailors brought the large cylinders into the bay. There were four of them. Each of them had Japanese glyphs painted on them. She wished that she had paid attention in class when she'd taken the Japanese course in High School.

Fujimora moaned loudly in the corner. She really wished that he wouldn't do that. He sounded awful and she didn't wnat her last... She didn't want to be hearing that when... She just didn't want to hear that right now.

And the socks were back. That was stranger than the first time that she had heard Vivaldi talk. Even considering that it had been a five minute monologue, none of which could have been printed in a family newspaper. Even the prepositions had been vulgar.

They were creeping around the parachute pack. She was quite certain that there was something about to happen.