(Zebra, Oil, Supernova)
Jim Rivers was dreaming about swimming. It had started out nice, but the water was cold now, and an octopus had wrapped its tentacles around him. The hateful creature was reaching down his throat, chilled fingers reaching … choking.
He woke with a scream, strangled by tubes running down his nose and throat to his stomach and lungs. Confined in some sort of capsule, he had no room to move his arms and legs – pod. There were tubes going everywhere – they seemed to be attached to him. They went into his nose, down his throat and a couple of other places that his mother taught him never to mention in public. He couldn’t look down, the containment was that complete. Pod. Read the rest of this entry