man mumbled in some language he had never heard, but his pattern recognition helped him realize the man was thirsty, mostly by the man trying to speak with a completely dry mouth. He climbed into the ship; that’s what it was, no way around that, and found a bottle of greenish purple liquid which he held to the man’s lips. The man swallowed, coughed and sputtered.
What he had seen inside the ship though, drew Gene back inside it like a magnet draws metal shavings. He climbed the steps, and looked inside; the ship's door was raised over his head shielding him from the sun, which was busy making its way over the desert.
There were instruments like he had never seen near the door which he didn’t touch, just looked at, and assimilated. He climbed higher into the ship via more stairs, and another door, and then he looked over his right at a delightful array of screens, and keyboards. Soon he was lost in it; the man forgotten, in fact, Vegas, and girls were forgotten.
He began to look at the symbols on the keys of the three keyboards. The keyboards were built into the ship like a great curved console, a wrap around console that made sense to that part of his mind that was above genius.
Darn, this thing is made for space travel; I wonder if it will still run? His mind ground on as he looked at the symbols on the edge of the screens, and soon they began making sense to him. He felt the seat under him, so comfortable; the seat seemed to form to his body.
He eventually started to get up, the seat beckoning him back to its comfort, but he forced himself to walk back through the ship. He found a bath room, and urinated into the round bowl, and the bowl let out a sigh as his urine sank out of sight. Well,that part works. His thoughts took him to other things he saw, and he saw the beds in the wall. He climbed in one of them. Gene was not a man to care if he still had on his dusty shoes.