Saffi didn't look - she jolted up, head hitting the underside of the bench with a sound like a dropped hammer. The recoil took her shoulder out from under the frame, and the whole prototype — roughly twenty kilos of alloy and armature with its casing off — came over sideways and landed across her chest and hip, pinning her flat.
Raizen stood in the doorway with his hand still on the handle.
It took about three seconds. He was aware of it afterwards, in a way he would not enjoy: one second where nothing in his head worked at all, one where he understood that the shape on the floor was a person he knew pretty well, and one more before his body finally caught up with either.
Then he quickly stepped across the room, getting his hands under the frame and lifting it off her.
"What are you doing?"
Saffi got an elbow under herself and dragged herself backwards out of the space, coughing. Her hair had come out of its tie on one side, and there was a smear of grey lubricant along her jaw.
