She felt a cold draft, and opened her eyes. She was snugged safely in her bed-net, in her cabin on the Intrepid. "Release."
The net loosened, and she swung herself into a sitting position, still impossibly chilly. "Computer, status--environmentals."
A screen appeared on the wall, soft grey-green statistics scrolling. Everything looked normal. "Run diag--"
"Don't bother. Nothing's wrong with our ship."
Anne turned, staring at the wall where she was painting Joyce’s memorial. A grey, see-through image of her dead partner floated there, legs tucked securely into lotus position. "Not funny. But who..."
ETA: Crowdfunding button removed to thank people who can donate funds for earthquake relief in Haiti.