Eighteen - IN SPACE

Once recovered from the trauma of losing both the Pelocan and the drifter, Jyro found life on the Shem vessel to be unexpectedly serene. The days, as recorded as scratches in the ship's hull metal, seemed to drift by.

For the first time in years the human found himself with plenty of time to think and reflect. In fact, had it not been for the certainty that he would eventually run out of food, the experience might have been rather pleasant.

Jyro followed a self-imposed routine that provided a modicum of both structure and comfort. His body clock woke him at approximately 0800 each morning. Never one to lounge about, the prospector rolled out of his improvised bag and onto the cold metal deck. The calisthenics included thirty-five push ups, followed by thirty-five leg lifts, thirty-five sit-ups, and thirty-five additional push-ups.

Once the exercises were complete, there were prayers to say, not the repetitious sort of nonsense favored by his father, but long, one-sided conv