 Why couldn’t David move after he first opened his eyes?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories November 1952. 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. 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. 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. The name meant nothing to me, but I thought about it, watching the relentless lights that shone below the dials. I floated against the door, twisting the handle in fear that it wouldn't turn. 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. It was the only thing I saw that could help me, guard me against another shock like seeing outside of the clear portholes. "Do not begin operations until the others are removed from suspension." He was as still as death, motionless without warmth or breath as I hovered over him. The eyelid remained open until I closed it and went on. I dared not try to operate anything. Revive the others ... instructions without knowledge were useless to me. Everything lay in readiness, fastened down star charts, instruments, glittering equipment. It waited for human hands to make it operate. This room was filled with equipment that formed a room out of the bordered area I stood in. I sat in the deep chair facing the panel of dials and instruments, in easy reach. The ports on the side were shielded and I stared out at static energy, hung motionless in a world of searing light. There was no distortion, no movement outside and I glanced back at the dials. What speeds and perhaps, what distance? They stood for anything I might guess, and something kept pricking my mind, telling me I had no time to guess.
 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.