syn@uo-vax1.UUCP (syn) (02/19/85)
Kirk Not when he was five and for seven heavenly days couldn't keep anything down but liquids in the Luna Connaught-Hilton and floated from one scolding and rescue to another in delerious fulfillment of a dream already rubbed shiny as a lucky token. Not when he was nine and the Kansas constellations were troubled with lights of cargo shuttles and the two white pillars of Jacob's Ladder could be seen half a continent away while Orion strode nightly over the corn balestar burning red at his shoulder belt and greaves glittering. No, he was eleven, at afternoon tutorial, when the computer told him what his test scores meant and how much he could do if he tried, told him, while he was innocent, in such a way that he had to try then and still is trying to keep the dream bright and outshine Orion.