That night my sleep was troubled.  I tossed in my pod, tormented by the slight hydraulic hiss as it adjusted to every new position.  I thought about plugging into the Regulator, but rejected the artificial soothing.  Every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire, but my readouts showed that my body temperature was normal.

I looked at the face of my mate, Jin, as she slept so serenely.  Her Regulator's lights winked green, and her chest rose and fell evenly.  Peaks and valleys of delta waves rippled across her brain readout--was she dreaming now?  Dreaming of me?

My groan was the loudest sound in the room.  It pierced the murmurs of the machines that watched over our sleep.  I half-hoped Jin would waken, but she was in too deep.

I lay back in my pod, fingers laced behind my head.  What was eating at me?  Was it the "guilt" I had seen discussed by neuropsychs on the university linkups?  Like most students, I had skimmed through the social history modules, not caring much about the ways pre-tech societies had tortured themselves.  My eyes felt heavier and heavier as I tried to recall the droning voices and quickly scrolling data.  It was just too boring, too boring...

A wrenching pain startled me awake.  It felt searing hot, like something pointed and sizzling plunged deep into my guts.   "The doctor!" I heard someone say.  Not Jin; it was a man's voice, an odd voice.  "Make haste!  The doctor!"

Why couldn't I see anything?  Who was this stranger?  And what was this agony tearing me in half?