Chapter 24

When she emerged from the lab an hour later, after taking time to sit and rest, Hersch was waiting for her. “How did you know I’d be coming out now?” she signed. “I thought you didn’t have any cameras in there.”

“I don’t. I’ve been out here the whole time. I figured you’d come out eventually, and look at that, I was right.” He took her hand and steered her down the corridor. “I want to take us to get some dinner, because we’re both going to need a lot of fuel to get through the next few weeks as we adapt to the new gravity. You in particular. I only spent about ten days away from here, I’ll adapt faster. Anyway. We’ll get some good hot food, and then we need to sleep. We’re on Mars time here, too, so at least that part will be familiar.”

As they walked, he pointed out features of the outer ring of the station. “Gravity is strongest here, so we do most of our daily actitivities on this level. Next in is the sleeping section, inward from that is storage, and at the center is the power. So we’ll need to go up a flight up stairs to the sleeping section, when we’re ready. That will probably be more comfortable for you, it will be a lot closer to Titan’s gravity. But I hope you won’t spend too much time there. You’re been cooped up too long. I want to see what happens when you stretch your wings a little.”

Anita didn’t respond. There was so much to take in, and so much noise. She hadn’t been around the collective noise of a large gathering of people since she left Kerguelen, and it was a cacophony. Another thing I’ve lost, she thought, resisting the urge to cover her ears, the ability to filter out sounds. I can hear everything, and I wish I couldn’t.

They ended up in a small restaurant, which was full of people but somehow less noisy than the hallways. Looking around, Anita noticed some strategically placed sound dampeners and silently gave thanks for them. She might actually be able to hear Hersch at dinner. The hostess immediately led them to a small table in a corner where the lighting was suspiciously perfect. “Your person table?” she asked, glad there was enough light for him to see her hands easily.

“Possibly. Hey, perks of owning the place. Just be glad I’m not the type to insist on a large table in the center of attention.”

“But you could have that if you wanted it.”

“Sure. But it’s not right for today.”

Anita took a sip of water, debating whether or not to ask the question that had been bothering her all afternoon. “You’re not going to be accompanying me every day, are you? Don’t you have a business to run?”

Hersch laughed, and reached for a menu. “Of course I do. And to answer your first question, no, I won’t. But remember I needed some time to adapt here, too, even though I own it. I’ll be out of your way starting tomorrow. I just didn’t want to throw you in to sink or swim on your own.”

Anita nodded, looking down at her own menu. It was a small list of dishes, but everything sounded good. She eventually settled on imitation chicken and asparagus, which the menu assured her had been grown in the station’s own garden. Two glasses of white wine appeared on the table without anyone seeming to have ordered them, and Hersch raised his in a toast. “To the mysterious Christine, who has survived so much and is enjoying her first taste of freedom.”

It took Anita a moment to remember that she was Christine, as far as he knew. She smiled, and took a sip of the wine. She would have to be careful: alcohol, gravity, and oxygen mixtures could be a strange combination. Best to go easy until she knew the effect this particular mix would have on her.

The meal seemed like a dream. The food was good and hot, full of flavor. Hersch talked with great animation about his business and the basic operations of the station, how he wanted it to be the hub for multiple funding sources for scientific endeavours all over the solar system. Between the wine, the exhaustion, and the heaviness that the gravity imposed on every inch of her body, Anita found herself dozing off toward the end of the meal.

“Ok, I think maybe it’s time to get you to bed,” Hersch said, laying his napkin on the table, and reaching for her hand. She took it and got to her feet. The room felt so heavy, and her eyelids were closing. Just stay awake a little longer, she told herself. Get to a bed and then you can sleep all you want.

Herschel guided her out of the restaurant and to a spiral staircase that lead what felt like upward, but which she knew would be more correctly described as inward. As she moved along the stairway, the pressure on her lessened, until it felt almost normal. They exited the staircase, and moved into another corridor, this one much simpler than the one on the living level. Many doors lead off the corridor, all numbered.

“Keeping the sleeping area simple gives us more freedom with the living areas,” Hersch explained, encouraging her to lean on his arm as they walked. “You’re in W-5, room 1138. I’m actually right across the way. And no, my space isn’t some kind of palace. It’s a little bigger than the standard room, but not by much. Living here, you get in the habit of spending most of your time on the outer level, and and just using this area for sleeping. But it’s up to you.”

When they arrived at her room, Hersch showed her how to unlock the door with the keypad, then pointed to the door directly across the hall. “This one is mine. You’re welcome there anytime. Here’s the code. Just come in if you need anything. I’ve instructed all of my staff to help with whatever you need.”

A moment of awkwardness descended as they stood in front of their respective doors. For a moment, Anita considered stepping across the hall and going to bed with Hersch. It would be warm and comfortable. But her ears ached with the sound of people, and she desperately wanted some time and space to herself again. Besides, she thought, if I change my mind, I can just join him later.

“Goodnight,” she signed, stepping into her room. “And thank you for everything.”

When the door closed, Anita collapsed onto the bed and pulled the weighted blankets over her. She wanted to laugh and cry, to punch something and to sleep for days. She hadn’t realized tension had been holding her together to such a great extent. Now that both the tension and the gravity had been lessened, she felt as though she might float up off the bed, a loose jumble of bones and muscles.

There had been a set of new, clean sleeping clothes laid out on the bed for her, but she didn’t feel like getting out from under the blankets to put them on. They could wait. The sweater and leggings were comfortable enough. She was asleep as soon as she closed her eyes.