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where is here?' In reverse order, this is the most comfortable berth in the doughnut's facilities, and you got here courtesy of one Johnny Ruiz. Myself, I wouldn't have taken the trouble."

Mac grinned back at his pilot and cleared his throat. "Well, where is he? I wanta shake his hand, or give him half my knigdom, or something."

"You know Johnny; the shy type. He'll be along after a while. You know, I think he kinda likes you; when you quit transmitting out there, Johnny was like a cat on a hot skillet. Finally decided to go back and have a look for himself, but I told him you probably had a hot game of solitaire going. Anyway, he went back and found you asleep on the job, and lost a good ten pounds getting your fat carcass through the air lock." That was a job that must have taxed both Ruiz and Logan, but Mac held his silence. "And that was about the size of it. Valier's parked outside with some of the boys, good as ever. Come on, we'll sop up some coffee."

Mac swung himself up to a sitting position and realized dizzily that he was mother-naked. His ribs felt pulverized. "You guys sure mauled me up," he said accusingly.

"Unavoidable, my dear grease-monkey. You needed a little artificial respiration; I never was too good at that."

"Well, whoever did the job rates a prize of some sort," Mac answered, "but my ribs tell me he had more enthusiasm than practice."

Logan smiled his old familiar smile, relieved to find his engineer in joking spirits. "The credit again goes to Johnny. But," he added, "try not to be too hard on him. Try gaving artificial respiration to a big lump like yourself sometime, without any gravity."

Mac digested this tidbit as he pulled on a fresh pair of coveralls. "O.K.," he said, standing on the foamex "floor." "How did he do it?"

"Strapped you into your couch face down and locked his legs around it. I didn't dare apply any g's. Come on," he finished, "you've managed to upset every timetable in the project. Johnny's shaking like a leaf, or was when I left him. A bulb of coffee will do us both a world of good."

"I'm sold," Mac grunted, zipping up a flight boot. "But there's something I'd like to do, first chance I get."

"Which is?"

"Which is jettison every last strip of tape I have in Valier. I tell you, Logan," he went on as they entered the recreation bar, "you'll never know how degrading it is to hear useless, insipid information offered to you when you're in a tight spot, knowing full well the voice is your own!"

THE END

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