asked Taki Nomura.Ted Connover was sitting in the only visitor’s chair, at one end of Nomura’s minuscule desk. The infirmary was pocket-sized: not even one bed. If anyone got sick or was injured, they’d be placed in their own privacy cubicle.Ted’s eyes flicked to the unblinking red light of the recording camera before answering, “Okay, I guess.”“Sleeping all right?”A nod.“Dreams?”A shrug. “Nothing special. They usually fade away when I wake up.”Taki said nothing. She’s like one of those Buddha sculptures, Connover thought. Her lips smile but those almond eyes are trying to x-ray me.“You’re eating well,” she said.Connover grinned. “Considering the food aboard this bucket, that might be a sign of insanity.”“The food could be better,” she conceded.For a long moment they faced each other, saying nothing. Then Nomura very clearly reached out one hand and clicked the camera off. The red eye closed.“All right, Ted. The official part of this examination is over.
