It was several centuries since civilian space ships had been the target of military assault. Space ships might expect to encounter serious hazards lik... meteor showers and radiation blasts, but this was an event of an entirely different order.The obvious place to hold such a convention was the stadium on the ninth level. It could be transformed from a rugby pitch to a concert hall and then to an athletics stadium in a matter of minutes. Invitations were issued and the stadium re-assigned to its. I felt like I was going to burst into tears any second but I bit into my lip and refused to cry in front of all these people. A towel got wrapped around my shoulders and Dan was hustling me towards the changing rooms, making some comment about getting me dry before I froze to death.Something about this was familiar – like that dejavu thing. That’s right! This morning at school I’d been drenched to the skin too. This really must be an official “Get Bec Wet” day.Dan walked me into the changing. “You want to know the problem? Do you? You want to know my fucking problem?!”I tried to find that cold part of me, that part that doesn’t feel things but I was angry when I replied, “Yeah, yeah, I do want to know!”“My problem is that fucking table!” Melissa pointed at the kitchen table.“The table!?” Something didn’t make sense.“The table, exactly, it’s THE fucking table, the only fucking table. It’s the only table in the goddamn house, the only table to eat at, the only table for me to study. “This is it,” I tell Harry as she looks to me for reassurance, “It’s going to be great. I promise.”The next thing that happens is familiar to me, but she is simply not prepared for the wall of force which drives her back against the chair. Her head snaps back against the cushion. Ouch. Her eyes widen in shock. The combination of the surprise, movement and the dramatic increase in vibration has greatly accelerated her pleasure. Knowing her face as I do, I can see that this thing might actually.