In the section C control room on deck nine of the Venus 1 space station, Ensign Maureen Smith sat at her desk and stared through the terminal screen, her mind more on her coffee than her work. She wrapped her right hand around the cup, her palm not quite touching the hot mug. The heat from the coffee comforted her. She slid her finger up the smooth glass, testing the heat to see if the coffee had cooled enough not to burn her tongue…

It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch. Sometimes I felt thirsty, but no matter how much I drank I could never quench the thirst. At other times, I needed to walk around the house and stretch my legs, but no matter how long I paced I still felt restless. It was as if my mind was trying to find a way to scratch that itch.