 Where was David?
"Your name is David Corbin. "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. There was no sensation of place, no feeling of up or down, no direction. "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. 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. It was the only thing I saw that could help me, guard me against another shock like seeing outside of the clear portholes. He was as still as death, motionless without warmth or breath as I hovered over him. Everything lay in readiness, fastened down star charts, instruments, glittering equipment. It waited for human hands to make it operate. 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. 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. I went from the nose to the last bulkhead in a frenzy of floating motion, looking behind each door until I went as far as I could. They both ended in the lead shield that was set where the swell of the curve was biggest. It meant the engine or engines took up half the ship, cut off from the forward half by the instrument studded shield. I had literally been reborn in this room, equipped with half ideas, and no point to start from, no premise to seek. The box behind her head was completely closed, and it didn't yield to the pressure I applied. It had a cover, but no other opening where an arm could extend. There were earths and minerals, seeds and chemicals, testing equipment in compact drawers, but nothing marked for me. Complete amnesia would have been terrible enough but this half knowledge, part awareness and association with the ship was a frightening force that seemed ready to break out of me.
 A weightless spaceship
 Dead  On Earth  A weightless spaceship  A small room