Download the Book - Islam and Science Fiction

Pajit off the station. Then the flashbacks from Peru started, and when
I shoved those down I found myself remembering the look I'd seen on
Jimmy's face when he came home and found his Dad in bed crying at
four in the afternoon. I finally dozed off for a few minutes and woke
up tangled, sweaty and gasping, with the walls closing in around me.
The techs tell us that the air circulation on the Mount is fine, but most
of us get the phobes anyway, and a few even jam doors open while
they sleep. Suffocation is one of our two constant nightmares--the
other is explosive decompression.
I hit the lights and sat up. I needed a drink.
Luckily Ben was still awake and he invited me to his cabin. When
I got there, I peered around curiously. His walls were postered with
paintings and sculptures; famous ones probably. Clothes were tossed
on the floor and the unmade bed. Ben still wore his standard issue
jumpsuit, very rumpled and stretched tight across the stomach. He
didn't seem any more drunk than earlier, but it was always hard to tell.
"About that drink..." I said.
He pulled open a drawer under his bunk and took out a plastiche
flask. I opened it and sniffed. It smelled like schnapps and industrial
waste. I took a large burning swallow and passed it back. Ben lifted
the flask ceremoniously.
"To the real Scottish mothers' milk, nectar of the gods, and may
we taste it again soon," he intoned, then drank.
I sank into the drop seat, eyes watering, trying to suppress a cough
but savoring the wonderful glow in my stomach that I'd pay like hell
for in a few hours. I didn't care. I drank some more.
"To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"
"Pajit."
"Ah. Your campaign not going well?"
"If he doesn't get death, he gets a lifetime in orbit for something he
never did."
"I take it you didn't consider that?"
I shook my head, feeling stupid.
"And Geir..."
"Not his problem." It came out more savagely than I had intended
and I felt ashamed. I would have done the same in Geir's shoes. I
asked: "You know anything about immigration?"
Ben leaned back against the wall, and raised an eyebrow.
"Not a great deal, old man, but enough to tell you that his only
hope would be a sponsorship and that is, to understate the case,
unlikely. I don't know about Canada, but E.U. sponsors have to
guarantee financial support for ten years, and they're liable for fines
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