Read Marsbound for Free Online
Authors: Joe Haldeman
carry it with you. Unless you have less than ten kilograms."
Maybe I should've saved a few ounces, bring back an Orbit Hilton T-shirt. Be the only one on the block.
The pilot Collins sat down next to Barry. “Thrills and chills,” he said.
"Routine stuff, right?” Barry said.
He paused a moment, and said, “Sure."
"You've seen this happen before?” I said.
"In fact, no. But I haven't ridden the elevator that many times,” He looked past me, to where Dr. Porter was doing mysterious things with the controls.
"Paul ... you're more scared than I am."
He settled back into the chair, as if trying to look relaxed. “I'm just not used to not being in control. This is routine,” he said to Barry. “It's just not my routine. I'm sure Porter has everything under control."
His face said that he wasn't sure.
"You're free to walk around now,” Dr. Porter said, her head still hidden. (I suppose pilots can walk around all they want.) “We'll be done here in less than an hour. You should be in your seats when we start up again."
Barry relaxed a little at that, and turned his attention back to dinner.
Paul didn't relax. He stood up slowly and took the vial of white pills from his pocket. He shook out two into his hand and headed for the galley, to pick up a squeeze-bottle of water. He took the pills and went back to his seat.
Barry hadn't seen that, his back to the galley. “You're not eating,” he said.
"Yeah.” I took a small bite of the beef, but it was like chewing on cardboard. Hard to swallow. “You know, I'm not all that hungry. I'll save it for later.” I pressed the plastic back down over the top and went over to the galley.
The refrigerator wouldn't open—not keyed to my thumbprint—so I took the plate and a bottle of water back down to my seat.
Card was reading a magazine. “That food?"
"Mine, el Morono. Wait your turn.” I slid it under my seat but kept the water bottle. The pilot had taken two pills; I took three.
"What, you scared?"
"Good time to take a nap.” I resisted telling him that if the Mars pilot was scared, I could be scared, too, thank you very much.
I pulled the light blanket over me. It fastened automatically on the other side, a kind of loose cocoon for zero-gee.
I reached for the VR helmet, but it was locked, a little red light glowing. Making sure everyone could hear emergency announcements, I supposed. Like “The ribbon has broken; everybody take a deep breath and pray like hell."
After about a minute, the pills were starting to drag my eyelids down, even though the anxiety, adrenaline, was trying to keep me awake. Finally, the pills won.
* * * *
9. Losing weight
I slept about ten hours. When I woke up it was right at midnight; the elevator restarting hadn't awakened me. The window said we'd gone 2250 miles and we were at 0.41 gee. You could see the whole Earth as a big globe. I took the pen out of my pocket and dropped it experimentally. It seemed to hesitate before falling, and then drifted down in no hurry.
It's one thing to see that on the cube, but quite another to have it happening in your own world. We were in space, no doubt about it.
I unbuckled and pointed myself toward the john. Walking felt strange, as if I was full of helium or something. It was actually an odd combination of energy and light-headedness, not completely pleasant. Partly the gravity and partly the white pills, I supposed.
I went up the ladder with no effort, barely touching the rungs. You could learn to like this—though we knew what toll it eventually would take.
Probably the last time I'd sit on a regular toilet. I should ask the machine when we were due to hit a quarter-gee and switch to the gruesome one. Go join the line just before. Or not. I'd be living with the sucking thing for months; one day early or late wouldn't mean anything.
My parents were both zipped up, asleep. Several people were snoring; guess I'd have to get used to that.
There were four people I didn't know
Maybe I should've saved a few ounces, bring back an Orbit Hilton T-shirt. Be the only one on the block.
The pilot Collins sat down next to Barry. “Thrills and chills,” he said.
"Routine stuff, right?” Barry said.
He paused a moment, and said, “Sure."
"You've seen this happen before?” I said.
"In fact, no. But I haven't ridden the elevator that many times,” He looked past me, to where Dr. Porter was doing mysterious things with the controls.
"Paul ... you're more scared than I am."
He settled back into the chair, as if trying to look relaxed. “I'm just not used to not being in control. This is routine,” he said to Barry. “It's just not my routine. I'm sure Porter has everything under control."
His face said that he wasn't sure.
"You're free to walk around now,” Dr. Porter said, her head still hidden. (I suppose pilots can walk around all they want.) “We'll be done here in less than an hour. You should be in your seats when we start up again."
Barry relaxed a little at that, and turned his attention back to dinner.
Paul didn't relax. He stood up slowly and took the vial of white pills from his pocket. He shook out two into his hand and headed for the galley, to pick up a squeeze-bottle of water. He took the pills and went back to his seat.
Barry hadn't seen that, his back to the galley. “You're not eating,” he said.
"Yeah.” I took a small bite of the beef, but it was like chewing on cardboard. Hard to swallow. “You know, I'm not all that hungry. I'll save it for later.” I pressed the plastic back down over the top and went over to the galley.
The refrigerator wouldn't open—not keyed to my thumbprint—so I took the plate and a bottle of water back down to my seat.
Card was reading a magazine. “That food?"
"Mine, el Morono. Wait your turn.” I slid it under my seat but kept the water bottle. The pilot had taken two pills; I took three.
"What, you scared?"
"Good time to take a nap.” I resisted telling him that if the Mars pilot was scared, I could be scared, too, thank you very much.
I pulled the light blanket over me. It fastened automatically on the other side, a kind of loose cocoon for zero-gee.
I reached for the VR helmet, but it was locked, a little red light glowing. Making sure everyone could hear emergency announcements, I supposed. Like “The ribbon has broken; everybody take a deep breath and pray like hell."
After about a minute, the pills were starting to drag my eyelids down, even though the anxiety, adrenaline, was trying to keep me awake. Finally, the pills won.
* * * *
9. Losing weight
I slept about ten hours. When I woke up it was right at midnight; the elevator restarting hadn't awakened me. The window said we'd gone 2250 miles and we were at 0.41 gee. You could see the whole Earth as a big globe. I took the pen out of my pocket and dropped it experimentally. It seemed to hesitate before falling, and then drifted down in no hurry.
It's one thing to see that on the cube, but quite another to have it happening in your own world. We were in space, no doubt about it.
I unbuckled and pointed myself toward the john. Walking felt strange, as if I was full of helium or something. It was actually an odd combination of energy and light-headedness, not completely pleasant. Partly the gravity and partly the white pills, I supposed.
I went up the ladder with no effort, barely touching the rungs. You could learn to like this—though we knew what toll it eventually would take.
Probably the last time I'd sit on a regular toilet. I should ask the machine when we were due to hit a quarter-gee and switch to the gruesome one. Go join the line just before. Or not. I'd be living with the sucking thing for months; one day early or late wouldn't mean anything.
My parents were both zipped up, asleep. Several people were snoring; guess I'd have to get used to that.
There were four people I didn't know