Pioneers

Deception can be good or bad, depending on how you look at it and on the circumstances. Dorav and Tzal had the right way of looking at it, and the circumstances were undoubtedly prime.
Gradually he became aware of resilient rubber and plastic supporting him. He lay on his back, heels together and toes lopped outward, elbows crowding uncomfortably into his ribs. His body shifted. The month-long hibernation was over.
A delicious feeling of completeness—of achievement—swept over him. He, Dorav Brink, had escaped from the endless boredom and idleness of Earth's mechanized domes, after all. Here on Sulle II there would be adventure and work in plenty.
His eyes opened. In the soft yellowish light which flooded the small square room, he saw a dozen other couches, similar to that on which he lay. Most of them were occupied. His gaze probed the huddled figures searching for the girl Rea.
He had met her aboard the space lighter enroute to the interstellar liner that was to carry them to Sulle II. Then they had been given their preliminary capsules of iberno and he remembered no more.
Iberno hits some people that way—with others it takes five or six capsules to put them into the death-like cataleptic state required for star hopping....
He saw her! Third couch to the right of his own. He stood up carefully, balancing on rubbery legs, and his hand went up to the constriction binding his skull. What was this? Goggles! Brink's fingers curled about the flexible band securing them. He tugged.
Stop that, Brink!
Brink's hand fell away. He recognized the voice of Len Daniels, the recruiter for this illegal voyage here to Sulle II.
Want to lose your eyesight, Brink? demanded the dapper little man. We warned you of the danger. For at least ten days your eyes must remain protected.
The little gray-haired man wore no glasses, he had acquired an immunity to the sunlight of Sulle II from former voyages, but his naturally pink-and-white complexion was a sickly yellow.