"We didn't," said Tex.
"So I see." The boy sat up. Matt recognized the boy who had made the crack about Tex's boots. He decided to say nothing-perhaps they would not recognize each other. The lad continued, "Looking for someone?"
"No," Matt answered, "this is the room I'm assigned to."
"My roommate, eh? Welcome to the palace. Don't trip over the dancing girls. I put your stuff on your bed."
The sack containing Matt's bag and civilian clothes rested on the upper bunk. He dragged it down.
"What do you mean, his bed?" demanded Tex. "You ought to match for the lower bunk."
Matt's roommate shrugged. "First come, first served."
Tex clouded up. "Forget it, Tex," Matt told him. "I prefer the upper. By the way," he went on, to the other boy, "I'm Matt Dodson."
"Girard Burke, at your service."
The room was adequate but austere. Matt slept in a hydraulic bed at home, but he had used mattress beds in summer camp. The adjoining refresher was severely functional but very modern. Matt noted with pleasure that the shower was installed with robot massage. There was no shave mask, but shaving was not yet much of a chore.