Derek hears the alarm going off on the electric wheelchair beside his bed.
The worst sound ever.
He rubs his eyes and looks at the gray ceiling above him
Another day, another moon dollar.
Jerking himself forward into a sitting position, he slides his feet over the side of the bed. His movements are slow, awkward due to the cerebral palsy he was born with. It takes time and effort to put on his clothes. The navy uniform that he’s putting on doesn’t stretch as much, making things that bit more difficult.
A busy day lies ahead. He’s one of a dozen flight controllers for Sector C of the moon. Normally, only a handful of ships would traverse Sector C during his shift, but it was projected to be over a dozen this time.
He wonders how Maeve is doing. They haven’t both been online at the same time to communicate. This is not surprising given their shifts and the fact that her spaceship is out of range, close to Earth, some of the time.
She doesn’t know about his disability. He thought about telling her, but nervousness or fear stopped him. Would she even understand the concept that he was not dying, but still needed to use a wheelchair? People born with a disability were seen as something from the barbaric past.
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