"It's not the same," he said.
The Personnel Manager sighed.
"Don't you see," Ish said, "It can't be the same. I didn't push the beast up here. There wasn't any feel to it. There wasn't any sound of rockets."
The Personnel Manager sighed again. "There wouldn't be, you know. Taking off from the Station, landing here—vacuum."
Ish shook his head. "There'd still be a sound. Maybe not for anybody else to hear—and, maybe, maybe there would be. There'd be people, back on Earth, who'd hear it."
"All right," the Personnel Manager said. His face was grave, but his eyes were shining a little.
"ISH! HEY, Ish, wake up, will you!" There was a hand on his shoulder. "Will you get a load of this guy!" the voice said to someone else. "An hour to go, and he's sleeping like the dead."
Ish willed his eyes to open. He felt his heart begin to move again, felt the blood sluggishly beginning to surge into his veins. His hands and feet were very cold.
"Come on, Ish," the Crew Chief said.
"All right," he mumbled. "Okay. I'm up." He sat on the edge of his bunk looking down at his hands. They were blue under the fingernails. He sighed, feeling the air moving down into his lungs.