Journey Between Worlds Read Free

running every five minutes instead of keeping to the regular schedule—but we couldn’t see who was getting off. We would have gone over to the copter pad if it were not that students had been told to keep away because of the crowds; arriving parents were being directed over to the quad. Julie’s folks hadn’t come yet, either, but they were local people and would be arriving on the monorail instead of driving in from the airport.
    The stereo system had been shut off temporarily and we could hear the school band tuning up somewhere in the background. The fountain splashed noisily off to our left. (I marvel, now, at the amount of water used in fountains on Earth!) I twisted my hands in my lap and wished that sixteen o’clock would hurry up and come.
    â€œWhere’s Ross?” Julie asked.
    â€œOh, meeting his folks, I guess. He said they might not see me until afterward.” This should be a happy, exciting time, I was thinking; instead, it was flat and empty. Perhaps the evening would be flat, too. I could hardly wait until it was over and I was on my way out to Maple Beach.
    Just as the loudspeakers came on and told us to start lining up, Julie spotted her parents. I was left standing there, knowing that it was foolish to wait any longer. Even if Dad did come, I couldn’t talk to him until after it was over; the band was already starting on the introduction to the march.
    But when he came rushing down the steps from the copter pad, I forgot everything except what a joy it was to see him, and it didn’t matter if I ever went inside for the ceremonies or not.
    The first thing I noticed was how excited he seemed, and how happy. Dad grabbed my hands and then hugged me tight, almost smashing my mortarboard, and I began to think I’d been silly to wonder if he cared anything about my graduation. Of course he cared. He was positively ecstatic!
    Then he thrust the long white envelope into my hands. From that point on, everything I’d ever known or felt or believed in began to come apart.
    â€œMel, honey,” Dad said. “It’s all settled! They’re sending you. I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure; I was so afraid you’d be disappointed—”
    â€œSending me where?” I began, but just then the band burst out with the main chorus of the march from Aida and the line started to move.
    â€œHappy graduation, honey!” Dad shouted, and he disappeared in the mob of people pouring in through the now-closing doors. I had to run to find my place in line, and by that time we were already moving into the auditorium. I started to stick the envelope away under the white folds of my gown, but as I did it I caught sight of the imprint in its top left-hand corner.
    Whenever I hear Aida, I’ll close my eyes and I’ll see that envelope again, just the way it was as I first looked at it. The triple globes—blue, white, and red—and the tall blue lettering, Three Planets Corporation. The triple globes as I’d seen them a thousand times on billboards and in magazines and on TV: blue for Earth, white for the Moon, and red for Mars. The words slanted in blue script across the front of the envelope: SPACELINER RESERVATIONS. The precise computer-printed characters on the ticket inside, confirming that Melinda Ashley held Berth 2, Cabin G-11, in the S.S. Susan Constant, departing at 0415 Greenwich mean time on June 10 for the planet Mars.
    I didn’t hear one word of the graduation speeches. The thrill you’re supposed to get from such a solemn occasion bypassed me completely.
    Dad, Dad, I thought that day, you must know me better than this. You must know this isn’t necessary, that I don’t even want it.
    That there isn’t anything I want less! I knew very little about Mars at the time, but I had a general idea of what that ticket must have cost; even for a man who’s well-to-do, interplanetary fares are out of sight. I