Federation citizens aren’t allowed much space travel. We’re supposed to stay on the planet where we’re born, unless we’re ordered somewhere else. I’ve tried to talk to Hank about all my doubts and fears but he really doesn’t discuss things with me. He’s just offered me solutions to my problems. Some of them were pretty drastic.
It came to me as I was heating one of the Plasteel sections to remold it into a different shape. Hank and I had talked about this before. I didn’t need to fit in. I could leave. Hank and I could leave. Surely that old man would take us with him -- as refugees. Maybe we could give him something.
Then I remembered his stare. I remembered the way he looked at me. If that’s what he wanted, well, I could give him that.
One of the instructors came over to evaluate my progress. “Better, June, better,” she said. “I like your use of the transverse line, and the curved surfaces are most intriguing. It’s still a little mechanical, but a least it’s not another one of your spaceships. Don’t be so representational. Remember: the important thing is to express yourself.”
She left, scribbling on her grade-pad. I hadn’t been paying attention to what I was molding: the Free Spacer’s ship. I had been expressing myself. I put a few finishing touches on it and slipped it in a stasis bag. This project I would show to Hank.
Hank was late when he came by my house. We were supposed to go to a porno party at one of his friends’ houses. I was so excited about the Free Spacer and the thought of escape that I just wanted to stay at home with Hank and talk about that. My folks were at an exhibit opening, and wouldn’t be back until late.