Repetitive grated panels of flooring extended as far as I could see. The empty hold was enormous."Cargo Hold G," my partner explained. "It's empty on ...his mission."A low handrail with built in lights was my only clue to the location of the service catwalk that would take us to the electrical monitoring station. There were few lights on in the bulk-cargo hold. Perhaps it was nothing more than an overactive imagination, but I thought I heard mechanical footsteps in the distance.Rayz read my mind. They walked over to the couch and had a seat. They were both in their sleepwear, she in little red sleep shorts and tank top and he in cotton pajama pants and a T-shirt that he had clearly juts picked off the ground, probably in his haste to come over. There were wrinkles all over it. They seemed oddly at ease for being in a stranger’s apartment, owned by someone they knew had just been having loud sex. “So,” I started, “My name is Will. What’s yours?” “My name is Mandy,” the woman. More

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