Forge of Heaven
“Procyon dressed in the sober shirt, the solemn coat. Breakfast wasn’t sitting any better on his stomach than the 0400h caff had done, and he tried not to think further ahead than he had to.
0842h. He checked the mirror in the bath and had a wild moment’s fantasy, as the Old Man had suggested, of calling in sick—sick with something disgusting and of at least a week’s duration.
The way he felt, he could almost qualify. His head felt fuzzy. He wanted to go back to bed and try for the several hours...’ sleep he hadn’t gotten. But he wouldn’t sleep if he did, and he was in it too deep to try to dodge it now.
On the other hand, he promised his bleary-eyed reflection, if he got through early with this interview, he could take this one day, maybe tomorrow, satisfy everybody, make the Director very pleased with him, try to settle the mess with Ardath, and maybe be back where he wanted to be, in his own downstairs office, by the time this ship left port—maybe even late-shift tomorrow if the report was what they wanted and if he could keep his eyes open.MoreLess
0842h. He checked the mirror in the bath and had a wild moment’s fantasy, as the Old Man had suggested, of calling in sick—sick with something disgusting and of at least a week’s duration.
The way he felt, he could almost qualify. His head felt fuzzy. He wanted to go back to bed and try for the several hours...’ sleep he hadn’t gotten. But he wouldn’t sleep if he did, and he was in it too deep to try to dodge it now.
On the other hand, he promised his bleary-eyed reflection, if he got through early with this interview, he could take this one day, maybe tomorrow, satisfy everybody, make the Director very pleased with him, try to settle the mess with Ardath, and maybe be back where he wanted to be, in his own downstairs office, by the time this ship left port—maybe even late-shift tomorrow if the report was what they wanted and if he could keep his eyes open.MoreLess
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