 Why couldn’t David move after he first opened his eyes?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories November 1952. "Your name is David Corbin. There were round dials set in a row above a speaker. Over the mesh-covered speaker, two knobs glowed red. The muscles in my throat tightened up in reflex as I tried to bring some unity into the jumble of thoughts and ideas that kept forming. "Your name is David Corbin. The mesh-covered hole and the two lights looked like a caricature of a face, set in a panel of dials. I reached down to the tightness that held my body, found the wide strap that held me and fumbled with the buckle. I heard myself yell in surprise as I floated up towards the light overhead. How do you describe being weightless when you are born into a world bound by gravity. There was no sensation of place, no feeling of up or down, no direction. I rubbed them across my face, feeling the solidity of flesh and bone, afraid to think too hard about myself. "My name ... my name is...." "Your name is David Corbin." The name meant nothing to me, but I thought about it, watching the relentless lights that shone below the dials. Walking was like treading water that couldn't be seen or felt. I floated against the door, twisting the handle in fear that it wouldn't turn. I reasoned it was there to propel yourself through the passageway in this weightless atmosphere. I turned on my side like a swimmer and went hand over hand, shooting down the corridor. I will always remember the scream of terror, the paralyzing fright of what I saw through the portholes in the wall of the room. They seemed to press against the glass, blobs of fire against a black curtain burning into my eyes and brain. After the first shock of looking out, I accepted the fact that I was in a space ship, yet I couldn't read the maps that were fastened to a table, nor understand the function or design of the compact machinery. Now it must tell me why I didn't. "Your name is David Corbin. The red lights blinked out as I stood in patient attention, trying to outguess the voice. It was the only thing I saw that could help me, guard me against another shock like seeing outside of the clear portholes.
 He had a wide seatbelt on.
 He was in suspension.  He was in a tight space.  He had a wide seatbelt on.  He was weightless.