"They're buzzing around a lot," Chris said helpfully. He couldn't really hear the intercom yet, not while he was still pulling himself out of the memory and back into the drift. His external sensory input was still not quite reconnected with the rest of his brain. Slowly but surely he was pulling himself back.

He could still feel blood dripping, wet and sticky and drying, and tried to figure out which sense was real. "Why? We drifted. This was my fault."