He looked up quickly, his eyes taking seconds to focus in the almost blinding glare. It was Wendy Hilliard, looking amazingly cool in her insulsuit and shorts.
He reached up and grabbed her arm, pulling her down alongside him. "How did you find me?" he demanded.
"It was an accident, although—" her voice trailed off.
"Although what?"
"You're hurting me!"
"Although what, Miss Hilliard?"
"I—well, I was looking for you, Jansen. I want to help you."
"Sure," he said, a trace of bitterness in his voice.
She smiled. "I'd say you need some help. You look all washed out."