It was cold inside the vessel, a chill made all the more cutting by its contrast to the muggy Florida night and the stale closeness of the visitors' room in the prison. Even before I'd straightened up after landing on the gently heaving deck of the ship, I began shivering; and just as I became aware that I was, a hand started to rub my back. "Bit of a shock, isn't it?" said the young woman Eli Kuper-man had called Larissa. I stood and looked into a pair of enormous black eyes that formed a distinct contrast to the oddly beautiful silver of the hair above and around them; already a bit smitten, I could only nod agreement to her assessment. Unspoken curiosity must, however, have been all over my face-why, I was thinking, would anyone capable of building such a vessel choose to exist in such an uncomfortable atmosphere?— because the woman quickly went on to explain, "My brother's gotten closer than anyone to creating superconductors that can operate at livable temperatures—but we still have to keep most of the ship below 45°." She tucked her remarkable weapon into a holster that was slung on her side, gave me that devious, bewitching smirk, then looped an arm through one of mine. "You must try to stay warm, Dr. Wolfe ..."
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