The Colors of Space - Page 22/108

Bart felt cold. He stirred, moved his head in drowsy protest; then

memory came flooding back, and in sudden panic he sat up, flinging out

his arms as if to ward away anyone who would lay hands on him.

"Easy!" said a soothing voice. A Mentorian--not the same Mentorian--bent

over him. "We have just entered the gravitational field of Procyon

planet Alpha, Mr. Briscoe. Touchdown in four hours."

Bart mumbled an apology.

"Think nothing of it. Quite a number of people who aren't used to the

cold-sleep drug suffer from minor lapses of memory. How do you feel

now?"

Bart's legs were numb and his hands tingled when he sat up; but his body

processes had been slowed so much by the cold-sleep that he didn't even

feel hungry; the synthetic jelly he'd eaten just before going to sleep

wasn't even digested yet.

When the Mentorian left for another cabin, Bart looked around, and

suddenly felt he would stifle if he stayed here another minute. He

wasn't likely to run into Tommy twice in a row, and if he did, well,

Tommy would probably remember the snub he'd had and stay away from Dave

Briscoe. And he wanted another sight of the stars--before he went into

worry and danger.

He went down to the Observation Lounge.

The cosmic dust was brighter out here, and the constellations looked a

little flattened. Textbook tables came back to him. He had traveled 47

light-years--he couldn't remember how many billions of miles that was.

Even so, it was only the tiniest hop-skip-and-jump in the measureless

vastness of space.

The ship was streaking toward Procyon, a sol-type star, bright yellow;

the three planets, Alpha, Beta and Gamma, ringed like Saturn and veiled

in shimmering layers of cloud, swung against the night. Past them other

stars, brighter stars, faraway stars he would never see, glimmered

through the pale dust....

"Hello, Dave. Been space-sick all this time? Remember me? I met you

about six weeks ago in the lounge down here--just out from Earth."

Oh, no! Bart turned, with a mental groan, to face Tommy. "I've been in

cold-sleep," he said. He couldn't be rude again.

"What a dull way to face a long trip!" Tommy said cheerily. "I've

enjoyed every minute of it myself."

It was hard for Bart to realize that, for Tommy, their meeting had been

six weeks ago. It all seemed dreamlike. The closer he came to it, the

less he could realize that in a few hours he'd be getting off on a

strange world, with only the strange name Raynor Three as a guide. He

felt terribly alone, and having Tommy close at hand helped, even though

Tommy didn't know he was helping.