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was suited up in about five minutes. Drew had been briefed about the exosuits but had never actually put one on. Teri watched him fidget and fumble with the unfamiliar fastenings for a while, then commented drily, “You really are a space virgin, aren’t you, Townsend?”
    Yes, he was. And he shouldn’t have been, not according to his cover story. Eligibles went into space all the time. They vacationed on the resort hubs. They attended conferences on Mars and Luna. Drew felt his chest tighten and his cheeks grow warm. “I’m just clumsy, that’s all,” he muttered unhappily. “And if you really want to help…”
    “Okay, okay,” she sighed, putting her helmet down on one of the seats. “Stand still for a minute.”
    Behind her back, a crewman smirked knowingly at them as he worked on something around the entrance hatch. A choice comment sprang into Drew’s mouth at that moment, but he forced himself to swallow it. He and Teri had probably been the in-flight entertainment for these guys, all the way from Earth. Fortunately, except for some profanity that had slipped out during one of their disagreements, Drew had been a perfect gentleman the whole time. And what was more important, he hadn’t said anything that could compromise either one of his missions, or his ability to carry them out.
    The crewman straightened up and backed away from the hatch, nodding satisfaction at his handiwork. “Whenever you’re ready, professors,” he tossed at them, then wheeled and headed back to the cockpit.
    As it turned out, Drew hadn’t done too badly with the suit. Teri only had to make a couple of adjustments. When she was satisfied that everything was airtight, she helped him lock his helmet in place before reaching for her own. He forced his gloved fingers through the handle of his briefcase and moved ahead of her to the exit.
    The hatch had converted into an airlock. Fortunately for Drew, everything was clearly labeled. He cycled the air, then stepped off the ship — and froze.
    He was standing on the curved ‘floor’ of an umbilical walkway, a flexible pipe about two meters in diameter. Somewhere ahead of him lay another airlock door. The walkway was opaque. Glow-bars stuck haphazardly to the metal ribs that hugged its walls and ceiling gave off a dim, sporadic light that seemed to drain everything of color. Suddenly, Drew’s breathing was loud in his ears, and he could feel perspiration tattooing his skin like an icy shower. As a field investigator back on Earth, he would have called for support before venturing into an alleyway that looked like this. But this wasn’t Earth, he reminded himself sternly — it was deep space. His only ‘support’ was Teri Mintz. And no matter how he tried to persuade his imagination that he was simply boarding the Inter-Union ferry at O’Hare, his imagination — and his gut — knew better.
    “Keep walking,” warned Teri’s voice inside his helmet. “Or stand aside and let me lead. The air supply in this suit is good for about a minute, that’s all.”
    Let her lead? He didn’t dare. Drew tightened his grip on his briefcase and willed his legs to begin moving again.
    They reached the platform’s airlock in about a dozen steps. The door opened easily. Passing through it, the two travelers found themselves at the top of a long ramp. Drew paused to remove his gloves and helmet and heard Teri’s sigh echo his own. After eleven days of weightlessness, his muscles weren’t at all happy about having to walk in one G. The ramp couldn’t have sloped more than fifteen degrees downward, but he may as well have been looking down the side of a mountain. And he never had been fond of heights.
    “Don’t stop now!” Clearly, Teri’s sigh had been one of impatience.
    There was nothing to do but grit his teeth and make his way to the bottom. Partway there, Drew glanced up and saw a tall, square-jawed man in a scarlet and dark blue uniform walking purposefully toward them across what