There was no 'up' or 'down' in space, but there was microgravity, hence the collective strapping.

Astronauts became weightless in orbit so they had to attach themselves to something to keep them from floating around or bumping into things. This should already go without saying; all the passengers were seasoned experts. All but one.

Mr. Gambetti got restless a while later so he unstrapped.

"Sir, you can't–"

"What are you doing?" Logan's tone was way harsher than he intended but he did not regret it. He didn't regret interrupting Borja either.

"My butt was getting numb. I need to stand up for a bit."

Except he couldn't. Mr. Gambetti began floating around instead. Unlatched, he appeared weightless and suspended, with no visible means of support. His body was positioned horizontally now, as a result of the gravitational forces acting upon him.

There were various seats around the shuttle and each was plush and comfy. Logan had made sure the company took extra measures to see to that. The cushioning was softer than a baby's bottom, as comfortable as humanly possible.

In earth time, it was a couple of hours since they departed. The flight began at 12 pm. Time moved significantly slower in space, so the actual duration on a space clock would be even less so.

Logan gave Mr. Gambetti a deadpan stare. His butt was completely fine.

"Amazing, huh?" he quipped, still floating this way and that around the compartment. He was diagonal at the moment, and one of his feet barely missed Blessing's face by a hair's breadth in his struggle to get upright.

Logan masked his irritation in another deadpan stare. "Sure. Get back to your seat, sir."

The man's excitement deflated faster than a child denied the chance to meet Santa.

"I'd appreciate it if you sat down, sir," Logan said again.

"Why would I do that? I'm flying, man."

His eyes furrowed. "You're floating, not flying."

Mr. Gambetti tucked his arms and legs close to his body as he tilted his head up. "Same thing, Foxxman."

Foxxman, on the other hand, turned away. He had to. His palms were beginning to turn into fists at his sides.

Borja was seated on the opposite side of the crew compartment and she looked exhausted as well.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"Whoo!" Gambetti remained in his bubble. His clothing hefted up, giving the impression of motion even when he was still. That was all Logan could take.

"Do you think this is some kind of joke?"

It wasn't annoyance anymore, that had dissipated now. Something else colored his tone, and it made him grit his teeth as he spoke.

"Do you think this is a joke?" he asked again when Mr. Gambetti stayed silent. The silly grin was still on his face.

"Do I think what is a joke?"

"Everything. Us. This flight. The project. Hell, the entire company."

"No. I don't think the company I spent millions of dollars on is a waste, Dr. Foxxman."

Logan detected the sarcasm in his words. He scoffed. Those millions of dollars were thanks to generational fortune. This man has never worked a day in his life. "Really? You certainly act like it."

Something in Mr. Gambetti's eyes flared. He twisted around awkwardly, trying to swirl away from his chair. Logan guessed he was trying to come closer.

Technically, microgravity in space equaled one-millionth of the gravity on Earth but it might as well go hand-in-hand with zero gravity. It is why Mr. Gambetti suddenly started jerking around in slow motion, looking like a tube man at a car dealership.

He struggled to push against the weightlessness but ended up looking absurd. All the more reason he should have been sitting in the first place.

"Because I'm fly— floating?"

For a moment, Logan struggled to mask his growing irritation. "Because you don't get it. Any of this. You can't even pretend to!"

Beside him, Blessing was staring at him as if he'd suddenly grown an extra head. He should check his tone. "GSA was built a decade ago and the first time you stepped foot into it was last week. Late and barely interested. Next, you show up at the UN Summit late again rambling on about a topic you know nothing about and–"

"I beg your pardon. Barely interested? What are you talking about? I listened to all your nerdy crap."

His insides fumed. "Nerdy crap? I spoke for five hours nonstop and you did not even remember my name. That 'nerdy crap'", he air-quoted it, "is going to save your life. Not to mention twelve billion other humans back on Earth."

"I get that. That's why I'm here."

Logan sighed in exasperation. "Even today, today of all days, you were hours late!"

"I tried my best to get here in time."

"Which leads me to my next point. You're not an astronaut, sir. Why are you here?"

He finally succeeded at locomoting. Mr. Gambetti dangled in front of Logan. "It is literally my project!"

Logan laughed mirthlessly. "No. It might be your funding and company but hell would have to freeze over before it ever became with your project."

"You have some nerve, you know that?"

"Forgive me, sir. I happen to take the imminent risk of global mass extinction a little more seriously than some people. This is not a damn excursion."

"You think I don't know that?"

"Do you, sir? Do you?"

Mr. Gambetti still wasn't positioned upright. He was bent diagonally as he floated about. Coupled with the stern face he was trying to give him, his entire stance looked utterly ridiculous. Logan raised one eyebrow as if to accentuate his question.

The man winced. "I can see why you might think that, but I was not trying to undermine your efforts."

He gesticulated to the rest of the crew as he went on, "You guys are making the ultimate sacrifice here. The whole world will thank you for it."

"So, stop flailing around."

"I suggest you watch your tone."

He was getting offended? How laughable. You get treated whatever way you projected yourself. How could he possibly respect such an airhead?

"I'll consider it when you return to your seat, Mr. Gambetti."

"I already told you; Mr. Gambetti is my father."

Logan's jaw clenched. "Then sit your ass down, Giovanni."