His hand trembled, and he leaned back, forcing his tense leg muscles to relax. What do you mean, who am I trying to kid? he thought, angrily. You're crazy. Would I be kidding myself? I quit kidding myself years ago. I know what I'm up to. This is a journey for heroes, and I'm going to be the hero, this time. For sure. This time there won't be any doubt. They won't have any doubt, and I won't have any doubt—
You're alone, Scotty. Remember? You can quit acting now.
He shuddered, and glanced uneasily around the tiny closed chamber. Alone? What a laugh. A man can never be alone. There are always a million memories, wheeling and spinning and roaring around inside your head. Memories of people, of hopes and dreams and fears. You can build a heavy wall in your mind to keep them back, but when you're alone, and scared, and helpless, the wall starts to crumble down—
There's nobody to fool any more, Scotty. The act is over. Admit it, you're scared, you can hardly hold still you're so scared—
He clapped his hands to his ears, trying to shut out the whisper. He kept shaking his head, but it came through like a heavy surf. He sat tense, trembling, with salty droplets pouring down his face, shaking his head helplessly—
You're caught now, the voice whispered. This is a one-way ride, and you know it, and you're scared—
"I'm not!"
The earphones clicked. "You say something, Scotty?"
Scotty took a deep breath, unclenching his hands. "No, no—nothing. What's the Zero-count, Mitch?"
"Zero minus sixteen minutes. Everything set?"