not feeling better.”
“You want a medic?” I’d never heard him sound so down.
“Maybe I’m imagining too much. My mind knows it’s not real gravity, so I keep thinking about the spin that holds me down.”
“Forget it.”
“I’m glad my parents aren’t here. Mom would say my tummy has the whoopsies and Dad would say, gee—this whole place spins, and Mom would suggest that maybe I shouldn’t stay at all …”
“Going to the picnic?” I asked.
“How can I?”
“I’ll keep you company. But not in here.”
I went out through the sliding doors and wandered back to the room. My lost bag was on my trunk. I checked the address label and saw that it had been changed to my new address—by Mom, probably. Unpacking would make an exciting afternoon, I thought, still feeling a bit angry and depressed. I wasn’t really here yet, I realized. I wanted to be here, but I was still back on Earth.
I sat down at my desk and examined the library link, noticing the portable screen for those who might like to work in out-of-the-way places. I gazed out the window at the hill that fell away to my right. The tall grass would be a great place to lie down and read. I wandered over to my bed and lay down, realizing that I hadn’t escaped anything; there would be new problems here, and the old ones would continue to visit, as long as there were phones and I was still Joe Sorby.
I would have to become someone else.
Silvery light filtered in through the window when I opened my eyes. Morey’s dark shape stood over me.
“What’s the time?”
“About midnight,” he said.
“Fell asleep,” I mumbled, sitting up slowly.
“They gave me something at the infirmary, so I went over to the picnic.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You looked so peaceful, like you needed it. You didn’t want to go anyway.”
“What was it like?”
“The university president spoke, telling us that more people from Earth should visit the Sunspace Settlements to promote better understanding of where the future lay for our civilization—off-planet. There was a demonstration for the miners on Mercury. It didn’t last long. A lot of students seem to be involved in the cause.” He sounded impressed and a bit uncertain.
I sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed my eyes. “The trip tired me more than I thought.”
“You’re a bit sick from the changeover. People react differently, they said at the infirmary.”
“What’s that light outside?”
“The mirrors bring in moonlight same as the Sun.”
“I don’t remember falling asleep.”
“Okay now?”
“Sure.”
“Breathe deeply once in a while. I take it the other side of the room is mine.”
I nodded. “The phone’s coded to me on this side. I missed dinner.”
“It was at the picnic.”
“Maybe I’ll go back to sleep.”
“It’s a nice night. I’m going for a walk.” He gave a crazy laugh, like his usual self. He was obviously relieved to be well again. “It’s always a nice night here. How could it not be? They turn it on and off.” His dark shape moved toward the door.
“Morey?”
He stopped and turned around, but I couldn’t see his face. “What, my friend?” his dark shape asked.
“Are you glad to be here?”
“Now I am, after they fixed me up. Aren’t you?”
I was grateful he couldn’t see my face in the darkened room. “Sure. Just wanted to know.”
The door slid open as I lay down. He went out, and it whispered shut. I relaxed in the strange silence and thought of all the space and stars outside the shell—and dreamed I was down in the dorm basement, opening a trap door into the glowing universe outside. The dream was wrong, of course, because the stars were motionless; they should have been moving as Bernal rotated. I fell through the bottom of my new world and drifted away, breathing cold nothing as the naked Sun blistered my face until it looked like a bowl of oatmeal, and I was forced to keep telling people my name because
“You want a medic?” I’d never heard him sound so down.
“Maybe I’m imagining too much. My mind knows it’s not real gravity, so I keep thinking about the spin that holds me down.”
“Forget it.”
“I’m glad my parents aren’t here. Mom would say my tummy has the whoopsies and Dad would say, gee—this whole place spins, and Mom would suggest that maybe I shouldn’t stay at all …”
“Going to the picnic?” I asked.
“How can I?”
“I’ll keep you company. But not in here.”
I went out through the sliding doors and wandered back to the room. My lost bag was on my trunk. I checked the address label and saw that it had been changed to my new address—by Mom, probably. Unpacking would make an exciting afternoon, I thought, still feeling a bit angry and depressed. I wasn’t really here yet, I realized. I wanted to be here, but I was still back on Earth.
I sat down at my desk and examined the library link, noticing the portable screen for those who might like to work in out-of-the-way places. I gazed out the window at the hill that fell away to my right. The tall grass would be a great place to lie down and read. I wandered over to my bed and lay down, realizing that I hadn’t escaped anything; there would be new problems here, and the old ones would continue to visit, as long as there were phones and I was still Joe Sorby.
I would have to become someone else.
Silvery light filtered in through the window when I opened my eyes. Morey’s dark shape stood over me.
“What’s the time?”
“About midnight,” he said.
“Fell asleep,” I mumbled, sitting up slowly.
“They gave me something at the infirmary, so I went over to the picnic.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You looked so peaceful, like you needed it. You didn’t want to go anyway.”
“What was it like?”
“The university president spoke, telling us that more people from Earth should visit the Sunspace Settlements to promote better understanding of where the future lay for our civilization—off-planet. There was a demonstration for the miners on Mercury. It didn’t last long. A lot of students seem to be involved in the cause.” He sounded impressed and a bit uncertain.
I sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed my eyes. “The trip tired me more than I thought.”
“You’re a bit sick from the changeover. People react differently, they said at the infirmary.”
“What’s that light outside?”
“The mirrors bring in moonlight same as the Sun.”
“I don’t remember falling asleep.”
“Okay now?”
“Sure.”
“Breathe deeply once in a while. I take it the other side of the room is mine.”
I nodded. “The phone’s coded to me on this side. I missed dinner.”
“It was at the picnic.”
“Maybe I’ll go back to sleep.”
“It’s a nice night. I’m going for a walk.” He gave a crazy laugh, like his usual self. He was obviously relieved to be well again. “It’s always a nice night here. How could it not be? They turn it on and off.” His dark shape moved toward the door.
“Morey?”
He stopped and turned around, but I couldn’t see his face. “What, my friend?” his dark shape asked.
“Are you glad to be here?”
“Now I am, after they fixed me up. Aren’t you?”
I was grateful he couldn’t see my face in the darkened room. “Sure. Just wanted to know.”
The door slid open as I lay down. He went out, and it whispered shut. I relaxed in the strange silence and thought of all the space and stars outside the shell—and dreamed I was down in the dorm basement, opening a trap door into the glowing universe outside. The dream was wrong, of course, because the stars were motionless; they should have been moving as Bernal rotated. I fell through the bottom of my new world and drifted away, breathing cold nothing as the naked Sun blistered my face until it looked like a bowl of oatmeal, and I was forced to keep telling people my name because
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