“It’s a flexible plastic that’s heatproof,” said Sally. “It inflates and holds the food down to the hot bottom of the pan. They expected the crew to eat ready-prepared food. I said that it would be bad enough to have to drink out of plastic bottles instead of glasses. They hung one of these stoves upside down, for me, and I cooked bacon and eggs and pancakes with the cover of the pan pointing to the floor. They said the psychological effect would be worth while.”
Joe was stirred. He followed her out of the kitchen and said warmly—the more warmly because these contributions to the Space Platform came on top of a personal anxiety on his own account: “You must be the first girl in the world who thought about housekeeping in space!”
“Girls will be going into space, won’t they?” she asked, not looking at him. “If there are colonies on the other planets, they’ll have to. And some day—to the stars....”
She stood quite still, and Joe wanted to do something about her and the world and the way he felt. The interior of the Platform was very silent. Somewhere far away where the glass-wool insulation was incomplete, the sound of workmen was audible, but the inner corridors of the Platform were not resonant. They were lined with a material to destroy reminders that this was merely a metal shell, an artificial world that would swim in emptiness. Here and now, Joe and Sally seemed very private and alone, and he felt a sense of urgency.
He looked at her yearningly. Her color was a little higher than usual. She was not just a nice kid, she was swell! And she was good to look at. Joe had noticed that before, but now with the memory of her fright because he’d been in danger, her worry because he might have been killed, he thought of her very absurd but honest offer to cry for him.
Joe found himself twisting at the ring on his finger. He got it off, and there was some soot and grease on it from the work he’d been doing. He knew that she saw what he was about, but she looked away.
“Look, Sally,” he said awkwardly, “we’ve known each other a long time. I’ve—uh—liked you a lot. And I’ve got some things to do first, but——” He stopped. He swallowed. She turned and smiled at him. “Look,” he said desperately, “what’s a good way to ask if you’d like to wear this?”
She nodded, her eyes shining a little.
“That was a good way, Joe. I’d like it a lot.”