"You’re staring again, Poddy," Clark said without looking up. His voice was flat, devoid of the childlike wonder that usually occupied eleven-year-olds. "The trajectory hasn't changed in the last forty minutes. We are still falling toward Venus at exactly the planned acceleration."
Clark made a noise that was halfway between a grunt and a sniff. "To do that, you'll need to master third-order differential equations, Poddy. Last night, you spent two hours trying to explain to the nursery attendant why babies shouldn't be kept in centralized crèches." podkayne
The air in the observation dome of the Trianon smelled faintly of recycled ozone and synthetic jasmine, a combination that fifteen-year-old Podkayne Fries had already decided was entirely too "Earth-side" for her tastes. Sitting with her chin in her hands, she stared out through the thick radiation glass at the magnificent, terrifying swirl of the inner Solar System. "You’re staring again, Poddy," Clark said without looking