ref: b9fbb17c04e4ccfb2021dac818e514351ca8f646
dir: /troff/0611.ms/
.LP \& .ce .sp |4.25i .PP .ps 12 .CW ░ "I'm an idiot," Tom said, aloud. .PP .ps 12 There was no argument from the crew, who were in any case not aboard the ship, and therefore hadn't heard his remark. Likewise, they would have had no way to respond, even if some perfunctory audio feed had been provided to them, back on Earth. Convenient. .PP .ps 12 Tom slumped in his captain's chair, still moping about his predicament. He opened another bag of chips. The pattern had become apparent even to himself. He watched himself eat the chips and then he watched himself wipe his hands across the front of his shirt. .PP .ps 12 What was he doing? .PP .ps 12 Well, there was no one to ask. .PP .ps 12 His eyes drew to a slit beneath his ruined visor. .PP .ps 12 Waitaminute. .PP .ps 12 It was at this precise moment that Tom finally recalled his childhood. The whole strange shape of it, a smearing, quicksilver ellipsoid, entering and exiting his mind like a tadpole shooting across a pond. Or, yes, like a bullet through his brain. .PP .ps 12 Bang. .PP .ps 12 And then, nothing. As quickly as it had arrived, the awareness evaporated into nothingness. No ripple, no impression was left behind in the fizzle of Tom's conscious awareness. His revelation was just as quickly forgotten, proving once and for all that a thing seen can most certainly be unseen. .PP .ps 12 Unaware of the momentary disturbance, Tom returned automatically to his chips. .PP .ps 12 Continued the mission.