She took a breath. What the hell. Geronimo. “You got a yes.” Mission Elapsed Time [Day/Hr:Min:Sec] Plus 066/06:34:51

Phil Stone hadn’t slept well. It was almost a relief when his intercom started piping out some kind of music, gentle elevator stuff with guitars.

He closed his eyes and buried his head in his sleeping bag; perhaps he could grab a couple of minutes more…

He heard thumps, bangs, and suppressed curses from the sleep locker next to his. A fist slammed into an intercom control panel. Shut the fuck up.

Ralph was awake, then.

He could hear Natalie sneezing. That would be the dust. It was a problem; dust didn’t settle under microgravity, and, despite the circulation and filtering of the air, there was a lot of it in the atmosphere: from the food, from hair and whiskers being shaved off, from epidermal flaking.

The music cut off.

Fred Haise, working as capcom, came on the line. “When you’re ready, Ares, I’ve got a couple of flight plan updates and an update on your consumables, and the morning news, I guess.”

“Give us the news, Houston,” Gershon growled.

“Surely. What have we got… The Lakers have beaten the Boston Celtics four to two for the NBA title. Natalie might be glad to hear that. Or she might not. The TWA hijack continues. It looks as if the passengers have been moved out and dispersed around the Beirut slums… Here’s something for you, Ralph; I know you’re a sci-fi buff. Gene Roddenberry has said he’s scrapping the treatment he’d prepared for a new Star Trek series. It was going to be like the first, with the huge space cruiser Enterprise with massive phaser banks, bigger and more powerful than anything they’re likely to encounter. But he’s changed his mind; he’s been inspired by you guys, apparently. Now, Roddenberry says he’s aiming for something called Star Trek Explorer, about a small, pioneering band of humans and aliens in their fragile craft, going much farther than anyone has gone before… How about that, guys. Science fact changing the face of science fiction. It says here.”

Gershon laughed. “Who’s playing me? And which one of us is the alien?”

Haise, good-hearted but no public speaker, read on. After a couple of minutes, Stone found he was able to tune out the halting voice from his awareness.

The news was important, though, he figured. It reminded them all that there was still a whole world back home, something more to go back to than the confines of these cans they were stuck inside.

Stone took a leak, washed, and pulled on a T-shirt and shorts. He suspended a pair of reading glasses around his neck on a string.