It turned out that I was right, and becoming a suit wasn’t so hard after all. I ordered a new ergonomic chair that fit me better than Laura’s old one, and I’ve even become kind of fond of Chekhov’s phaser up on the wall. Dave the bartender and I have been keeping time together, and he takes me to much better restaurants and bars than Lefty and I had ever gone to. Even with the expense of nice clothes and quality liquor, I’m still hanging on to way more cash than I’d ever seen before.
After we’d gone out a few times, Dave took me to the observation lounge on the top of the old mining station. I hadn’t even known that there was one, and when we walked in the door I found that I had to close my mouth. You don’t really notice the full immensity of space when you’re busy on the station. But under that clear dome it’s like the biggest, clearest night sky you can imagine. I have to admit that the first time I saw the Earthrise it took my breath away and I finally understood what Laura had been talking about. I can’t even imagine living anywhere but the moon any more.
The only thing I miss is that old snow globe. I still find myself reaching out to pick it up and give the thing a shake every once in a while. But I know it’s out there somewhere, blood and bits of hair I knew I’d never be able to get off still stuck to its edge. It’s there, forever floating out in space along with everything else that found its way into Lunacy’s trash room and out their airlock that night I took Laura back to her office. I was a little worried that the resignation I wrote wouldn’t fool them, but I guess she taught me how to sound like a manager well enough. No one noticed me in my uniform pushing a crate over to the docks, and no one noticed me load it into Lunacy and stick it under the rest of the crap in the trash room. Sometimes it’s good not to be noticed.