A Firm Grip

A sudden pulse snapped through my joints. My right foot was locked securely to the smooth white plane beneath me. Stable. Very stable. Slowly, I flexed my raised knee and tilted my torso. The joint held firm without a sound. Ahead lay a low black structure with segmented claws resting silently against the deck. I leaned forward, testing the tension in my elastic cord, and tapped the nearest white prong with my left suction foot. Solid plastic. No tremor. I planted both feet firmly beside it, locked in place, and paused.