9
Clay was used to keeping busy with pre-flight checks right until takeoff. This launch was completely different—in fact, the only thing being set in motion was a giant stream of photons. There was absolutely nothing for him to do but lower himself into a cylinder of chilled liquid and answer a few questions while wearing nothing but dissolvable briefs for modesty and a web of tubes and wires connected to every body part and orifice. As technicians checked and rechecked each of those connections, he tried to ignore them. It was impossible.
He only snorted when the chief medical officer asked if he was comfortable.
Comfortable? Hardly, but the discomfort was expected and could be endured. The sensation of floating might even have been pleasant if he wasn’t so damned cold.
Did he feel an
