The Sparrow - Mary Doria Russell [92]
And then everyone was talking at once, congratulating Jimmy and George and Marc, discussing how long it would take to get to the planet with the moons, excitement swamping the funk they’d been in as the sterile weeks had dragged by. The buzz of conversation halted when D.W. looked around for Emilio and then called out sharply, "Sit down ’fore you fall down, son," and pushed past the little crowd around the display, making his way through the common room benches and tables. He wasn’t quite quick enough to catch Emilio before he hit the floor.
There was, at first, a burst of laughter because Emilio looked so comical, going down like a puppet with the strings cut, but in slow motion because of the low gravity. Alan Pace thought impatiently that he’d only done it as a joke and was irritated as usual at the man’s habitual frivolity.
Anne was right behind Yarbrough. "It’s okay," she said matter-of-factly as the laughter died and turned to consternation. "He’s just fainted." She could have lifted Emilio off the floor herself; at .25 G, he only weighed about thirty pounds. But intellectual equality aside, Anne Edwards retained a certain deference toward male sensibilities, so she looked up at D.W., intending to ask him to carry Emilio into his cabin for her. She was astonished to see that Yarbrough was trembling. Then it clicked and many things became clearer to her.
"Jimmy, would you lug him into his room for me, please?" she called out in a slightly bored voice, to minimize the drama. D.W. opened the door to Emilio’s room and stepped out of the way as Jimmy went by, a giant Raggedy Andy carrying Emilio, who looked like a rag doll himself, limp in the big man’s arms. Anne gave the situation about three seconds’ consideration and then gave D.W. a firm and reassuring hug, brief but forthright, before squeezing past Jimmy into the little cabin. Jim left and she closed the door behind him.
Emilio was already coming out of it. Anne could hear D.W. just outside the door, in full East Texas cry, making everyone laugh and steering the conversation back to the planet. The voices receded, and Anne looked back to Emilio, who was now sitting up, feet over the side of the bed, eyes wide and blinking.
"What happened?" he asked.
"You passed out. Must have been the surprise about the planet. The autonomic nervous system will do that to you. You can feel your arms and legs get cold and then everything turns white."
He nodded. "That never happened to me before. What a strange sensation." He shook his head to clear it and his eyes widened again.
"Whoa. Just sit there a while. Takes a little time for your blood pressure to get settled." She was leaning against the bulkhead, arms crossed, watching him with a clinical eye but thinking about what she’d just seen. He laughed a little and then sat still, letting his equilibrium reassert itself.
"I am surprised," Anne said judiciously, "that you were surprised."
"About the planet?"
"Yes. I mean, this whole thing was your idea. I thought you had some kind of direct line to God about this." She wasn’t as sarcastic as she might have been. In fact, she said this with a straight face, almost, with only a hint of insincerity to protect herself.
He was silent for a long time, starting twice to say something and then stopping again. Finally, he said, "Anne, may I tell you something? In confidence?" She slid down the wall, as controlled in her drop to the floor as Emilio had been boneless, and sat cross-legged, looking up at him. "I’ve never told anybody this, Anne, but—" He stopped again and laughed nervously. "This must be some kind of record, yes? A man who can be completely inarticulate in fourteen languages."
"You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to."
"No. I need to talk to someone about this. Not someone. You. I need to talk to you about this. Anne, I’m just getting somewhere that everyone