crags, gulf-black shadows, under the glare offloodlamps. A few kilometers away, the farthest horizon ended, choppedoff like a cliff. Beyond lay the stars, crowding that night whichnever ends. It grew very still while the gang waited for his word. Hecould listen to his own lungs and pulse, loud in the spacesuit; hecould even notice its interior smell, blend of plastic and oxygencycle chemicals, flesh and sweat. He was used to the sensation ofhanging upside down on the surface, grip-soled boots holding himagainst that fractional gee by which the asteroid's rotation overcameits feeble gravity. But it came to him that this was an eeriebat-fashion way for an Oregon farm boy to stand.
Oregon was long behind him, though, not only the food factory where hegrew up but the coasts where he had fished and the woods where he hadtramped. No loss. There'd always been too many tourists. You couldn'tescape from people on Earth. Cold and vacuum and raw rock andeverything, the Belt was better. It annoyed him to be interruptedhere.
Could Carlos take over as foreman? N-no, Blades decided, not yet. Agas receptor was an intricate piece of equipment. Carlos was a goodman of his hands. Every one of the hundred-odd in the Stationnecessarily was. But he hadn't done this kind of work often enough.
"I have to quit," Blades said. "Secure the stuff and report back toBuck Meyers over at the dock, the lot of you. His crew's putting inanother recoil pier, as I suppose you know. They'll find jobs for you.I'll see you here again on your next watch."
* * * * *
He waved--being half the nominal ownership of this place didn'tjustify snobbery, when everyone must work together or die--and steppedoff toward the nearest entry lock with that flowing spaceman's pacewhich always keeps one foot on the ground. Even so, he didn'tunshackle his inward-reeling lifeline till he was inside the chamber.
On the way he topped a gaunt ridge and had a clear view of the balloonsthat were attached to the completed receptors. Those that were stillfull bulked enormous, like ghostly moons. The Jovian gases thatstrained their tough elastomer did not much blur the stars seenthrough them; but they swelled high enough to catch the light of thehidden sun and shimmer with it. The nearly discharged balloons hungthin, straining outward. Two full ones passed in slow orbit againstthe constellations. They were waiting to be hauled in and coupledfast, to release their loads into the Station's hungry chemical plant.But there were not yet enough facilities to handle them at once--andthe _Pallas Castle_ would soon be arriving with another--Blades foundthat he needed a few extra curses.
Having cycled through the air lock, he removed his suit and stowed it,also the heavy gloves which kept him from frostbite as he touched itsspace-cold exterior. Tastefully clad in a Navy surplus Long John, hestarted down the corridors.
Now that the first stage of burrowing within the asteroid had beencompleted, most passages went through its body, rather than beingplastic tubes snaking across the surface. Nothing had been done thusfar about facing them. They were merely shafts, two meters square,lined with doorways, ventilator grilles, and fluoropanels. They had nothermocoils. Once the nickel-iron mass had been sufficiently warmedup, the waste heat of man and his industry kept it that way. The dark,chipped-out tunnels throbbed with machine noises. Here and there agirlie picture or a sentimental landscape from Earth was posted. Menmoved busily along them, bearing tools, instruments, supplies. Theywere from numerous countries, those men, though mostly NorthAmericans, but they had acquired a likeness, a rangy leathery look anda free-swinging stride, that went beyond their colorful coveralls.
"Hi, Mike.... How's she spinning?... Hey, Mike, you heard the lateststory about the Martian and the bishop?... Can you spare me a minute?We got troubles in the separator manifolds.... What's the hurry, Mike,your batteries overcharged?" Blades waved the hails aside. There wasneed for haste. You could move fast indoors, under the low weightwhich became lower as you approached the axis of rotation, with nofear of tumbling off. But it was several kilometers from the gasreceptor end to the people end of the asteroid.
He rattled down a ladder and entered his cramped office out of breath.Avis Page looked up from her desk and wrinkled her freckled snub noseat him. "You ought to take a shower, but there isn't time," she said."Here, use my antistinker." She threw him a spray cartridge with adeft motion. "I got your suit and beardex out of your cabin."
"Have I no privacy?" he grumbled, but grinned in her direction. Shewasn't much to look at--not ugly, just small, brunette, andunspectacular--but she was a supernova of an assistant. Make somebodya good wife some day. He wondered why she hadn't taken advantage ofthe situation here to snaffle a husband. A dozen women, all but two ofthem married, and a hundred men, was a ratio even more lopsided thanthe norm in the Belt. Of course with so much work to do, and witheverybody conscious of the need to maintain cordial relations, sexdidn't get much chance to rear its lovely head. Still--
She smiled back with the gentleness that he found disturbing when henoticed it. "Shoo," she said. "Your guests will be here any minute.You're to meet them in Jimmy's office."
* * * * *
Blades ducked into the tiny washroom. He wasn't any 3V star himself,he decided as he smeared cream over his face: big, homely, red-haired._But not something you'd be scared to meet in a dark alley, either,_he added smugly. In fact, there had been an alley in Aresopolis....Things were expected to be going so smoothly by the time theyapproached conjunction with Mars that he could run over to that sinfulginful city for a vacation. Long overdue ... whooee! He wiped off hiswhiskers, shucked the zipskin, and climbed into the white pants andhigh-collared blue tunic that must serve as formal garb.
Emerging, he stopped again at Avis' desk. "Any message from the_Pallas_?" he asked.
"No," the girl said. "But she ought to be here in another two watches,right on sked. You worry too much, Mike."
"Somebody has to, and I haven't got Jimmy's Buddhistride-with-the-punches attitude."
"You should cultivate it." She grew curious. The brown eyes lingeredon him. "Worry's contagious. You make me fret about you."
"Nothing's going to give me an ulcer but the shortage of booze on thisrock. Uh, if Bill Mbolo should call about those catalysts while I'mgone, tell him--" He ran off a string of instructions and headed forthe door.
Chung's hangout was halfway around the asteroid, so that one chief orthe other could be a little nearer the scene of any emergency. Notthat they spent much time at their desks. Shorthanded andundermechanized, they were forever having to help out in the actualconstruction. Once in a while Blades found himself harking wistfullyback to his days as an engineer with Solar Metals: good pay,interesting if hazardous work on flying mountains where men had nevertrod before, and no further responsibilities. But most asterites hadthe dream of becoming their own bosses.
When he arrived, the _Altair_ officers were already there, a score ofcorrect young men in white dress uniforms. Short, squat, and placidlooking, Jimmy Chung stood making polite conversation. "Ah, there," hesaid, "Lieutenant Ziska and gentlemen, my partner, Michael Blades,Mike, may I present--"
Blades' attention stopped at Lieutenant Ziska. He heard vaguely thatshe was the head quartermaster officer. But mainly she was tall andblond and blue-eyed, with a bewitching dimple when she smiled, andfilled her gown the way a Cellini Venus doubtless filled its castingmold.
"Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Blades," she said as if she meant it.Maybe she did! He gulped for air.
"And Commander Leibknecht," Chung said across several light-years."Commander Leibknecht. _Commander Leibknecht._"
"Oh. Sure. 'Scuse." Blades dropped Lieutenant Ziska's hand inreluctant haste. "Hardjado, C'mander Leibfraumilch."
Somehow the introductions were gotten through. "I'm sorry we have tobe so inhospitable," Chung said, "but you'll see how crowded we are.About all we can do is show you around, if you're interested."
"Of course you're interested," said Blades to Lieutenant Ziska. "I'llshow you some gimmicks I thought up myself."
Chung scowled at him. "W
e'd best divide the party and proceed alongalternate routes," he said, "We'll meet again in the mess for coffee,Lieutenant Ziska, would you like to--"
"Come with me? Certainly," Blades said.
Chung's glance became downright murderous. "I thought--" he began.
"Sure." Blades nodded vigorously. "You being the senior partner,you'll take the highest ranking of these gentlemen, and I'll be inScotland before you. C'mon, let's get started. May I?" He offered thequartermistress his arm. She smiled and took it. He supposed thateight or ten of her fellows trailed them.