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Dmitri Boronov. He will be your companion here for the next
couple of months until his replacement arrives.”
    “ Ah, yes,” Garrison warmly
bowed and grasped the hand of his new companion, “We met earlier,
but I was a bit out of it. By the way, I didn’t get a chance to
thank you for helping me walk into the barracks
earlier.”
    “ You should be slow to
stand now,” counseled Dmitri. “It will take few minutes to use
legs.”
    Heeding his advice,
Garrison stood slowly from his bed and while steadying himself on
the wall next to it, took just a few experimental steps. “I must
agree with you, Comrade.”
    “ We will give you a few
minutes to adjust and dress, Garrison,” said Ayman. “To encourage
you, there will be a hot bowl of soup, fresh-baked bread and juice
waiting for you in the dining room.”
    Garrison didn’t realize
how hungry he was until he heard this discussion of food. “That
sounds great!” admitted Garrison. “I’ll be there as quick as I can…
um, where is the dining room, anyway?”
    “ As you leave the room,
turn left and proceed to the end of the hallway. The door is right
at the end. See you there soon.”
    Garrison thanked the pair
as they left his room, where he stretched his limbs and began
learning how to walk all over again. He found a sweat suit in his
closet, exactly like those being worn by Ayman and Dmitri, with the
name “O’Ryan” embroidered on the left chest pocket. The door to a
private bathroom was open, so he stepped in. After splashing water
on his face and hair, he washed his hands and felt much better. He
would’ve liked to take a shower, but his appetite and time
constraints gave way to the temptation. Toweling himself off with a
large white towel, which also had the name “O’Ryan” embroidered on
it, he ventured back into the bedroom to dress.
    As if his legs might still
give out under him, he walked slowly and cautiously out of the
bedroom and into the hallway. He peered down both ends. So far, the
barracks had a more homey impression than he might otherwise have
expected. The cream-colored plush carpet led down towards the
dining room at one end and the foyer at the other end. Framed
pictures and artwork, depicting some of the impressive features of
Mars lined both walls. Towards the foyer, he could see all of the
typical NASA-produced hypergraphs of each Martian-based astronaut
lining either side of the hallway.
    The door to the dining
room was open, and he could hear the soft din of a casual
discussion taking place between Ayman and Dmitri as he approached.
He could only make out the occasional word or phrase: “Home”, “your
family”, “what an adventure.”
    Ayman and Dmitri quickly
stood up as Garrison appeared, as if needing to help him to a
seat.
    “ I’m fine,” He waved them
off. “I’m actually adjusting rather quickly. I suspect that it’s
because of the lighter gravity that my legs are feeling back to
normal so quickly.”
    “ True,” admitted Ayman.
“Keep in mind, however that the adjustment will not be so sudden
when you return to Earth. Part of our daily regimen is an exercised
routine prescribed by NASA trainers to ensure that we do not lose
muscle tone in our arms, back and legs. This is because the gravity
here is so much less than it is on Earth that muscle atrophy would
cause a serious impediment to an adjustment to Earth
life.”
    At this, Ayman noticed
that Garrison was bracing himself on a chair, and realized that he
was still laboring a little bit to get his full strength
back.
    “ I’m sorry, Garrison…
please, have a seat.” Ayman gestured to the chair. He sat down to a
place setting as Dmitri walked over to a counter. From under a heat
lamp, he grabbed a steaming bowl and a plate with all of the
contents as promised. Garrison noticed that the remains of the
other astronauts’ lunches remained on the table.
    “ Cheese steak sandwiches
and potato salad?” asked Garrison curiously. He was famished