Bessie had a hangover. She groaned and stretched. There certainly must have been lots of vodka at that party last night.
Party? What party?
It was difficult to separate various concepts and orient herself to a present where and when.
Slowly the soft susurrus background song of the big wheel penetrated consciousness, and another, closer roar. Millie taking a shower, she realized.
Suddenly she came out of the vagueness wide awake, the hangover cleared magically, evaporating much too quickly to have been caused by alcohol.
But she had been tied up to a chair on the bridge beside Nails, prisoner of the Security men, only minutes ago.
WHAT was going on?
Millie stepped out of the shower into the compartment the two girls occupied, and smiled.
"How're you doing? About to come out of it?"