They weren't the soft glittery nebulae he'd seen in pictures, but instead the lighting was crisp, like a Mozart minuet, instead of the more romantic Brahms. Space was vast, his brain struggling to reconcile the fact that he'd been able to see for miles on the road to camp, and now that landscape and more was somewhere below... 

Anthony had to take a deep breath, grabbing one of the supports next to the viewport which proved solid and unexpectedly made him think about home, before he tore his eyes away from the sight and glanced back into the reassuring scale of the Sojourner. 

It's okay, he told himself. This is what you wanted to see! Isn't it great?

It was great, grand, marvelous, and a host of other superlative adjectives, but it was making his brain hurt. He hoped they would head back, and then this could be a fantastic memory in hind-sight. 

But what about the music of the spheres?

Anthony risked another look out the window. All he could hear was the hum of the ship's engines, and they provided a soft, rhythmic background to his thoughts. Music, on the other hand, was harder to come by. Dies Irae, maybe, but that sounded too dramatic--or not dramatic enough. Maybe something quiet? Something contemplative?

"There's not an orchestra in the world that can do this justice," Anthony decided. But once he had his feet on the ground again, he thought he'd like to try.

"I'm pretty sure we aren't supposed to break out of the gravitational field, right, Maeve?" Kaelin gasped, their new speed knocking the wind out of her. "Right? Right? Maeve!"

The next few minutes were harrowing, but when the ship again slowed and seemed to stop moving, Kaelin began to giggle. 

"Look, Maeve, look at my hair!" Kaelin said, pointing at her curls, which were now--literally--floating around her face. 

"Why did the builders make these rooms so small? It's like they never fathomed someone like me being here. So much for advancement!" he proclaimed to the air before sticking his head into the next door. "Oh, this looks interesting."

The bull wandered into a larger room filled with rows of buttons, levers, knobs, and lights on walls and benches. He eyed them for a moment and then snorted.

"They're so tiny! Obviously made for people with fingers. There's no way I could..." He paused and eyed the closest panel and then glanced at the door, which had slid closed behind him. "Moira won't be wandering over here any time soon. I could..."

With that, he started towards the benches and began trying to depress buttons and shift levers.

"What are you reading?"

Before Amy could answer, the Sojourner lurched and began moving.

"Oooh, here we go!"

Her favorite part of camp? "Um --" If she was at school, she would have said the telescopes, or the arcade, or that anti-gravity area Audrey had been going on about but Amy hadn't been brave enough to visit. But she wasn't at school, and she supposed it didn't really matter if Kaelin thought she was cool or not. "So far just reading on the beach," she admitted. "I really like reading."

She giggled.

"What's been the best part of space camp for you?"

One crucial difference Lauren had not given enough consideration when agreeing to this outing was that there was a very big disparity between their relative tolerance of things that left the ground beneath them. 

Ian was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. Audrey was almost as enthusiastic. She had been a little disappointed to learn she would not actually be going to outer space, but a few trips to the anti-gravity chamber and some quality time with a telescope had soothed enough wounded feelings to leave her excited about what would effectively be her first plane flight. Even Amy, who had at first been reluctant to leave her books behind for a "historical experience", but then she took one look at the Sojourner and she was in awe, running ahead of even Ian to experience every bit of history she could.

Lauren ignored them, and took the first seat she could find. Maybe if she strapped herself in tightly enough, and got her music going, she could forget that she was about to be several thousand feet in the air. In a metal tube with walls thinner than those of her apartment. That was heaven only knew how old. 

This was going to be awful.

------------

This was going to be incredible.

When Aunt Lauren and Uncle Ian first brought up Astro Camp, Amy thought it sounded an awful lot like school disguised as a summer vacation; obviously, her mom thought so too, or she never would have let them go. Mom didn't get along with Aunt Lauren very well, and she didn't like Uncle Ian, but she thought school was the most important thing in the whole entire world. If Amy hadn't gone to the camp, Mom probably would have had her stay inside, reading boring history books and practicing the autoharp and writing book reports -- bleck!

The camp had turned out to be pretty fun, actually, though Amy wished her friends could have been there. She had spent most of her time on the beach, reading in the shade except when Audrey came and begged her to join her in the water. Then she had spent nearly four hours total in the arcade, actually getting a high score on the color matching game. She'd even let Uncle Ian talk her into playing her autoharp a little at the campfire -- she'd refused to play more than one song, while Audrey let herself get talked into three. Amy had completely avoided the historical exhibits, though she'd have to visit them eventually, after promising her parents she'd be ready to write a report on them when she got home.

Never in her life had anything with the words "space" or "history" excited Amy, but from her first glimpse of the Sojourner, she hadn't been able to look away. It was just so big! How big were the machines they'd built it with? And how had they built those? Amy couldn't imagine how they ever could have done it. It took Dad four more hours than the instructions said it would to build that treehouse for Nicky, and you could fit a million treehouses into the Sojourner.

She was so busy looking at everything she almost missed the security briefing. Amy grabbed an empty seat, next to a girl who seemed about as excited as she was, and began strapping in. "Have you ever flown before?" she ventured to ask.

"Are you sure this is safe?" she asked when they had found the entrance, contemplating the massive metal structure.

"Of course it is!" The Bull said indignantly.

"It's not going to...come to life or anything?" she asked, the previous day's journey too recent to be discounted.

"HA!" The Bull laughed - a little too loudly, she thought. "Does this think look like it could move? Now, come on, or we'll miss the, ehhh, tour."

The pair wandered into the structure and wandered through the various exhibits for a half-hour or so. Curiously enough, the Bull seemed a bit bored, but Moira was in a state of wonder, reading each and every label and plaque.

"Final boarding call for all passengers! Doors will be secured in three minutes. All aboard!"

"What's that?" Moira asked, looking for the source of the disembodied voice.

"Oh, it's probably another part of the exhibit. You know, replaying sights and sounds from the distant past and such," her companion replied, wandering out of the room they were currently investigating. "Ooh, you should see this - it says "First Officer's Quarters" and looks saf- I mean, satisfactory."

Moira followed obligingly and was investigating the first officer's desk when the floor began to shudder and the disembodied voice began again.

"We have lifted off. Please take your seats and fasten your harnesses. Every seat in the Sojourner is equipped with a harness. To fasten the waist belt, lift up on the metal tab and insert the buckle; pull tight across your lap. To fasten the chest straps..."

"Did you know this would happen? You did, didn't you?!" Moira hissed, collapsing into the desk chair and grappling with the straps frantically.

"Errrrm." The Bull swayed in place but didn't look at her.

"If we survive, I'm going to...to...make life very unpleasant for you."

"Now, don't be hasty. You were enjoying yourself up until now! And I think you'll appreciate the experience later. However," he added, dodging an object that had - until a moment ago - been sitting safely on the desk next to a label proclaiming 'Statuette of unidentified Anatidea. Rubber. Replica.' "I should probably find a safe place to stand. Maybe in the hallway."