Garry found his feet beginning to lift weightlessly off the floor. His body sagged off balance, and he had to hold onto a handle on one of the seats.
“Garry, what’ll we do?” Patch exclaimed frantically. “We’re going weightless!”
“Let’s look for a wardrobe compartment,” Garry suggested. “Since these fliers are used as lifeboats sometimes, there must be space suits and things. Maybe we’ll find magnetic shoes, too.”
“How’ll we ever get around in here to look for anything?” Patch sputtered. By now he was floating, his legs and arms flailing helplessly like a bug on its back.
Using the handles on the backs of the seats, Garry worked his way across to a cabinet set in the wall. Then he moved from the last seat handle to the wall rail and worked himself down it to the plastic case. Through the clear window Garry could see space suits and accessories. He pressed a button, and the door popped open.
“We’re in luck, Patch,” Garry reported. “There are magnetic shoes in here. I hope the gravity plates in the floor are working.”
Garry managed to pick up two pairs of the shoes, tucking one pair under one arm. That left one hand holding the second pair and the other hand free.
Even then, it took quite some doing for him to work his way across to Patch, who looked like a pennant floating in the breeze as he hung crossways in the air, one hand tightly clutching a seat handle.
“Garry, I don’t feel so good,” Patch complained. “Everything in me feels like its pushing upward. Even my brain seems to be floating.”
“It’s lack of gravity doing that,” Garry said. “You are used to gravity always pulling down on you. When that pull is gone, it makes you feel as if your body is moving up. At least that’s what all the books say. And I believe them, because I feel that way myself. Here are your shoes. They’re pretty big, but they’ll be better than nothing.”