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. My- Our bonsai maple
he held pressed against his belly, the plant unhurt. He looked solemnly at Gwen.
"I didn't drop it," he said defensively.
I silently granted him absolution for throwing up during touch down. Anyone
who can attend to a duty (even a simple one) during the agony of acute motion
sickness can't be all bad. (But he must clean it up; absolution did not mean
that I would clean up after him. Nor should Gwen. If she volunteered, I was
going to be macho and husbandly and unreasonable.)
Gwen took the maple and set it on the underside of the computer. Bill
unbuckled himself while I supported him by his ankles, then I lowered him to the
ceiling and let him straighten himself up. "Gwen, give Bill the pot and let him
continue to take care of it. I want it out of the way... as I must get at the
computer and the instrument board." Should I say out loud what was worrying me?
No, it might make Bill sick again... and Gwen will have figured it out for
herself.
I lay down on my back and scrunched under the computer and instrument
board, switched on the computer.
A brassy voice I recognized said, "-Seventeen, do you read? Volvo Bee Jay
Seventeen, come in. This is Hong Kong Luna ground control calling Volvo Bee Jay
Seventeen-"
"Bee Jay Seventeen here. Captain Midnight speaking. I read you. Hong Kong."
"Why in hell don't you stay on channel thirteen
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