got
g
while you were tumbling, God knows probably more than enough. Your stimsuit’s clean, but you’d as glad be free of it a day or so, wouldn’t you? You’re probably sore as hell.—Right? Just don’t try to use the shower, cable won’t let it seal, we’ll have water everywhere. Anything else you got free run of. Copy that?”
“Yeah.”
Bird gathered up the trailing cable, put it in his hand, closed his fist on it. “When you’re moving about the cabin, do kind of keep a grip on that. We don’t want you hurt. Hear? Don’t want that cable to pull you up short. We’re not going to do a burn without we warn you, but all the same, you keep a hand to that. Hold on to it.”
Just too many things had happened to him. He could not figure what his situation was or what they wanted. He shoved off, drifted away from the bulkhead to get the packet of soup that had come adrift. Braking with his arm against a pipe was almost more than he could do. He let go the cable, confused, and banged his head.
Someone caught his foot and pulled, gently. It turned him as he came down and he saw Bird with a packet of soup in his own hands.
“There’s solid food,” Bird said, “when you can handle it. Use anything from the galley you need. You got pretty dehydrated.”
He hated all this past tense, implying a major piece of time he didn’t remember. From moment to moment he told himself Cory was gone, and every time he did that he felt a sense of panic. He brushed a touchpad with his foot, stopped, drank a sip and watched Bird sip from his own packet. He kept thinking, They’re lying to me, they’re not taking me home…
Finally he asked Bird, “What ‘driver is it out there?”
“What about a ‘driver?”
“You were talking about a ‘driver. What ‘driver were you talking about?”
Ben yelled up from below, “Don’t tell him a damn thing, Bird. He hasn’t earned it.”
He looked from Ben down at the workstation up to Bird, resting by the bulkhead.
“Ben’s excitable,” Bird said. “Just have your breakfast. Or supper, as may be.”
But Ben was drifting up to them. Ben braked with the shove of a hand against the conduits. “I’d like to know,” Ben said, “what you’ve got to pay for this trip. Eat our food, breathe our air, take up our time and our fuel. We’re aborting a run for you. We just got effin’
started
and we’re headed back to Base, damn near
zeroed
on your account, mister. You got any assets to pay for this? Or just debts?”
“We have money,” he said, and then knew he shouldn’t have said that to these people. He said, desperately catching up the thread of his thought—he hoped he hadn’t lost anything between: “So what ‘driver is it?”
Ben said, “How much money?”
“Ben,” Bird said.
“I want,” he said carefully, “I want you to call that ‘driver and ask about my partner.”
“Ask what about your partner?” Ben asked.
“Ask if they—” He stuttered on the thought. He never stuttered, and still he could not get it out. “—if they p-picked her up.”
“So why should they? What were you doing here, poaching in another Refinery’s zone?”
“We w-weren’t.” Dammit. “
It
was.”
“What do you mean, ‘it was’?”
“Ben,” Bird said, and then, looking at him: “Forget he asked.”
He didn’t understand. He was so weak he couldn’t track what they were saying from moment to moment, and hostile questions, zero
g
and unaccustomed food were all one confusion of balance and orientation. There was a constant buzz in his head that rose and fell like the fan-sounds. From moment to moment he knew Cory was alive, and from moment to moment he thought about the time and wanted to check his watch to be sure.
But that was crazy. He began to know it was. The only hope Cory had now was that ‘driver ship. Maybe it had picked her up. Maybe it had.
“He’s not telling the story he started with,” Ben said. “Man’s lying somewhere. A
g
while you were tumbling, God knows probably more than enough. Your stimsuit’s clean, but you’d as glad be free of it a day or so, wouldn’t you? You’re probably sore as hell.—Right? Just don’t try to use the shower, cable won’t let it seal, we’ll have water everywhere. Anything else you got free run of. Copy that?”
“Yeah.”
Bird gathered up the trailing cable, put it in his hand, closed his fist on it. “When you’re moving about the cabin, do kind of keep a grip on that. We don’t want you hurt. Hear? Don’t want that cable to pull you up short. We’re not going to do a burn without we warn you, but all the same, you keep a hand to that. Hold on to it.”
Just too many things had happened to him. He could not figure what his situation was or what they wanted. He shoved off, drifted away from the bulkhead to get the packet of soup that had come adrift. Braking with his arm against a pipe was almost more than he could do. He let go the cable, confused, and banged his head.
Someone caught his foot and pulled, gently. It turned him as he came down and he saw Bird with a packet of soup in his own hands.
“There’s solid food,” Bird said, “when you can handle it. Use anything from the galley you need. You got pretty dehydrated.”
He hated all this past tense, implying a major piece of time he didn’t remember. From moment to moment he told himself Cory was gone, and every time he did that he felt a sense of panic. He brushed a touchpad with his foot, stopped, drank a sip and watched Bird sip from his own packet. He kept thinking, They’re lying to me, they’re not taking me home…
Finally he asked Bird, “What ‘driver is it out there?”
“What about a ‘driver?”
“You were talking about a ‘driver. What ‘driver were you talking about?”
Ben yelled up from below, “Don’t tell him a damn thing, Bird. He hasn’t earned it.”
He looked from Ben down at the workstation up to Bird, resting by the bulkhead.
“Ben’s excitable,” Bird said. “Just have your breakfast. Or supper, as may be.”
But Ben was drifting up to them. Ben braked with the shove of a hand against the conduits. “I’d like to know,” Ben said, “what you’ve got to pay for this trip. Eat our food, breathe our air, take up our time and our fuel. We’re aborting a run for you. We just got effin’
started
and we’re headed back to Base, damn near
zeroed
on your account, mister. You got any assets to pay for this? Or just debts?”
“We have money,” he said, and then knew he shouldn’t have said that to these people. He said, desperately catching up the thread of his thought—he hoped he hadn’t lost anything between: “So what ‘driver is it?”
Ben said, “How much money?”
“Ben,” Bird said.
“I want,” he said carefully, “I want you to call that ‘driver and ask about my partner.”
“Ask what about your partner?” Ben asked.
“Ask if they—” He stuttered on the thought. He never stuttered, and still he could not get it out. “—if they p-picked her up.”
“So why should they? What were you doing here, poaching in another Refinery’s zone?”
“We w-weren’t.” Dammit. “
It
was.”
“What do you mean, ‘it was’?”
“Ben,” Bird said, and then, looking at him: “Forget he asked.”
He didn’t understand. He was so weak he couldn’t track what they were saying from moment to moment, and hostile questions, zero
g
and unaccustomed food were all one confusion of balance and orientation. There was a constant buzz in his head that rose and fell like the fan-sounds. From moment to moment he knew Cory was alive, and from moment to moment he thought about the time and wanted to check his watch to be sure.
But that was crazy. He began to know it was. The only hope Cory had now was that ‘driver ship. Maybe it had picked her up. Maybe it had.
“He’s not telling the story he started with,” Ben said. “Man’s lying somewhere. A
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