A Steady Grip

My neck joint released first. I looked upward, past the dark diagonal weave beneath me, toward the white curved panel of the large device looming ahead. A faint pulse ran through my fingers. Deliberately, I pressed my gloved right hand down against the textured desk surface. Friction met my palms—real, responsive resistance. I flexed my knees and shifted my weight forward, steadying myself in the low light. The perimeter is quiet. I am fully operational.