With death imminent, the water was no longer clarity and freedom, but instead the hand of time pressing from every angle. The warnings grew ever more shrill as the reflection, the other-Motoko in the rippled mirror the water/air barrier made came closer. She was looking down even as the Major looked up, and the feeling of layers pressing back into place was almost palpable.

Sometimes, I imagine I'm becoming a different person. It's probably the decompression.

Who had said that? Oh, yes...it was her. Motoko blinked, and found herself bobbing like a cork with he hair still in the water and her control systems markedly unhappy with the hydraulic pressure-readings that had fluctuated with the depth. She ignored them and pulled herself out of the water, streaming puddles everywhere, and looked to Sheeana.