In the Company of Others Read Online Free Page A

from aloof to amused; he usually failed, settling—as now—for a mild sense of dislocation.
    While it lasted, it was as if the tavern suddenly expanded along each axis; the people crammed inside faceless and strange, any movement slowed, every sound stilled. This bar , Pardell observed, with no choice but to accept perception— was a monument to human adaptability. There was no doubt the overcrowding on this and the other stations had produced its share of nightmares— he’d lived some —but it had also produced ways of coping. Queuing was a lifestyle, manners an essential skill. There was a seething, reasonably efficient economy based on barter and turnabout. In fact, the entire station operated that way, half keeping the reverse daylight/night cycle from the rest, allowing the available space and equipment to be used around the clock. It had become the stuff of romance as well as convenience, given there was someone in every bed no matter the time. It did make it awkward keeping track of anyone on reverse hours—
    â€œRejoining us any time soon, Aaron?” Malley’s rumble interrupted Pardell’s thoughts, startling him back to a noisy, companionable reality. The big man suggestively held up his own container, a piece of pipe of generous depth, one end welded shut. Intricate etchings covered its surface, extraordinarily fine work considering the size of the hands responsible. But then Malley’s appearance was the last thing to judge him by, as most in their section knew. A ferocious intellect that absorbed anything and everything in reach, off-shift Malley earned half again as many dibs teaching as he did as a laborer. There hadn’t been a subject yet which he didn’t know—or couldn’t learn—well enough to keep ahead of his students. Rumor had it, those joining Malley’s work shift had to pass an exam. It was more accurate , Pardell smiled to himself as he considered his friend fondly, to say only those willing to debate anything from astrophysics to poetry while heaving scrap metal managed to keep sane.
    Pardell obediently raised his container, a white plastic cup, to Malley’s. In another place and time, it would have been disposable. Here and now, despite its plain appearance, the cup was a prized possession; its ship markings, Merry Mate II , proof of a heritage few could claim and none could replace. “I was just thinking, my friend,” Pardell protested mildly after sipping his beer. “There’s no law against it.”
    Malley wasn’t letting it go, turning to look Pardell in the eyes. His own, dark brown beneath a broad forehead and straight-line brows, were clouded. “There’s no law against butting in line, but the last person we saw do it ended up in pieces. Messy, little pieces. You know better than to make people nervous, Aaron. Going all spacey in a crowded room is one of those nervous-making things. Okay?”
    Nervous. Pardell looked down at his gloved hands, trying to think if there had been an instant of his life when he didn’t have to listen to warnings, make the effort to blend with others. Suddenly, the boisterous crowd, the heat and smells, the sounds— everything —became overwhelmingly real. Pardell inhaled slowly and carefully through his nostrils, fighting the irrational urge to gasp for air, recognizing the signs with helpless frustration and more than a little disappointment. He’d overstayed his tolerance. “Time I headed home, anyway,” he announced, pouring the rest of his beer into Malley’s as nonchalantly as possible. The reminder hadn’t offended him; Malley was right. Odd behavior wasn’t tolerated, not here, where getting along meant being safely predictable and following the unspoken rules.
    Those rules definitely included not pushing one’s way in through the doorway so people trying to leave were shoved back against others. Pardell and Malley