The morning after Beth’s brush with death found her resting on her couch, dressed in jeans, a simple t-shirt, and slippers. She was still feeling a little unnerved, but a good night’s sleep had done a lot to calm her. The whole thing had been a total fluke, she told herself.<em>And all’s well that ends well. Mostly.</em>She had mixed feelings about the fact that Brett Quinn was done for the season, and perhaps for good—not because of his destroyed mech, but because he had walked away from his contract with GeneCorp. Beth did not know if he had lost his nerve or his faith in his sponsor, but truthfully she did not care—his remarks before the match were not something she could forgive easily. At least he was still alive. And although it was a trivial detail, Beth had been awarded the win. Quinn’s mech had been too badly damaged to continue even before the dome had given way.<br/><br/>All that aside, Beth intended to relax today, starting with a morning spent reading. Her datapad was currently displaying a new scientific paper:<em>Artificial Specified Intelligence: Is the Bottom-Up Approach to Strong AI Obsolete?</em>Next up in her queue was an ancient book,<em>Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media.</em>Beth supposed this made the datapad a damning sign of what a ridiculous nerd she could be.<br/><br/>She was sipping her tea as the holocomm signaled.<em>This better not be some business call.</em>Family would be fine, although Beth had already fielded five calls the night before from concerned relatives. She put aside the tea and the datapad before sitting down at the holocomm station. Fortunately it was Mira, one of the few people she had actually been hoping to hear from. Beth felt briefly self-conscious that she had not yet applied any make-up today, before deciding it was a silly concern.<br/><br/>Beth took the call, and Mira's image appeared, her expression showing obvious concern. “Mira, I’m glad to hear from you—I was planning to call you this afternoon. You look like you’ve already heard about my little misadventure,” she said ruefully.