People with disabilities -- Fiction; Science fiction
Jordan caught up before Docchi reached the cargo hold. In lesser
gravity he was more active and could move freely. Now his handicap
was almost unnoticeable, seemed to have disappeared. The same was not
true of Docchi. It required less effort to walk but there was also a
profound unsettling effect that made him cautious and uncertain.
Docchi heard him coming and waited, bracing himself against the wall
in case the gravity should momentarily change. Jordan still carried
the weapon he'd taken from the pilot. It was clipped to the sacklike
garment, dangling from his midsection which, for him, was just below
his shoulders. Down the passageway he came, swinging from the guide
rails with easy grace though the gravity on the ship was as erratic as
on the asteroid.
Jordan halted, hanging on with one hand. "We have a passenger. Someone
we didn't know about."
Docchi stiffened. "Who?" he asked. But the answer was already on
Jordan's face. "Nona," he said in relief. He slumped forward. "How did
she get on?"
"A good question," said Jordan. "But there isn't any answer and never
will be. It's my guess that after she jammed the lights and scanners
in the rocket dome she went to the ship and it looked inviting. So she
went in. She wouldn't let a little thing like a lock that couldn't be
opened stop her."
"It's a good guess," agreed Docchi. "She's exceedingly curious."
"We may as well make the picture complete. Once in the ship she felt
tired. She found a comfortable cabin and fell asleep. She can't hear
anything so our little skirmish with the geepees didn't bother her."
"I can't argue with you. It'll do until a better explanation comes
along."
"But I wish she'd waited a few minutes to take her nap. She'd have
saved us a lot of trouble. She didn't know you'd be able to crawl
through the tubes--and neither did you until you'd actually done it."
"What do you want?" said Docchi. "She did more than we did. We depend
too much on her. Next thing we'll expect her to escort us personally to
the stars."
"I wasn't criticizing her," protested Jordan.
"Maybe not. You've got to remember her mind works differently. It never
occurred to her that we'd have difficulty with something that was so
simple to her. At the same time she's completely unable to grasp our
concepts." He straightened up. "We'd better get going if we don't want
Anti to start yelling."
The cargo hold was sizable. It had to be to hold the tank, which was
now quite battered and twisted. But the tank was sturdily built and
looked as if it would hold together for ages to come. There was some
doubt as to whether the ship would. The wall opposite the ramp was
badly bent where the tank had plowed into it and the storage racks
were demolished. Odds and ends of equipment lay in scattered heaps on
the floor.
"Anti," called Docchi.
"Here."
"Are you hurt?"
"Never felt a thing," came the cheerful reply. It was not surprising;
her surplus flesh was adequate protection against deceleration.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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