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her suit in some semblance of privacy.
     
    “Your locker is here,” said Chastity, opening one of the six identical doors fitted into the comer of the airlock. “It’s got a jumpsuit, boots, and a set of standard underwear—all in your size. And this is where you hang your suit.” She put Sandra’s helmet into its holder and turned to help her with the suit plumbing.
     
    “I think I would prefer my own clothing,” said Sandra, reaching for the large duffel bag she had hauled along. Chastity kept herself busy checking out Sandra’s suit and hanging it up while Sandra got out of her cooljohns and got dressed. When Chastity turned around again, she saw that instead of a jumpsuit, Sandra was dressed in gray slacks and a white silk blouse tied at the throat. She looked very nice, very feminine, and very efficient at the same time.
     
    As Sandra and Chastity changed places with Rod and Dan, Chastity saw that Seichi was talking with the two men. The minute Seichi saw Chastity appear, he excused himself, and turning away to the galley across the room, started to make himself a cup of tea. Chastity felt frustrated. Somehow, ever since their initial poor start, Seichi had managed to avoid coming into direct contact with her despite the close confines of the crew capsule. She desperately wanted to make friends, but she couldn’t bring herself to just apologize—after all, she was the one who had been wronged.
     
    “Seichi!” called Chastity to his turning back. “I’d like to introduce you to our crewmate, Sandra Green ...”
     
    Seichi turned, and avoiding Chastity’s eyes, greeted Sandra with a free-fall bow.
     
    “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu —pleased to meet you, Ms. Green. I must go now to my station.” Leaving the two women and his tea behind, he pulled himself up the ladder where he took up the position at the engineering console in one apex of the triangular control deck.
     
    Sandra gave Chastity a querying look.
     
    “It’s not you,” said Chastity with disgust. “It’s me. He thinks I’m mad at him, so he’s been avoiding me. I’m not, though, really…” Sandra let it pass, so Chastity changed the subject. “There’s a couple of things I need to explain to you, now that you are living in crew quarters instead of passenger quarters,” she said. “When you came in on the passenger modules from Mars, you were traveling first class—crew quarters is like living in steerage. First thing is the toilets…” She pointed to the two narrow doors.
     
    “Which one is the ladies’?” asked Sandra.
     
    “Either... or neither…” replied Chastity. “First come, first served.”
     
    “I can get used to that...” said Sandra bravely.
     
    “Normally, however, there is an unwritten rule that the men try to use the right-hand one first, leaving the left-hand one for the ladies.” Chastity opened the left of the two small doors and ushered Sandra inside. She then stood in back of her to point out things inside.
     
    “The shower stall is behind that watertight door. The washbowl is folded up into the wall there, to give you some dressing room. The urinal tube is there, with your own personalized cup in the compartment above it with your name on it... and that,” she said, pointing, “is the dreaded zero-gee toilet.”
     
    “It certainly doesn’t look like the toilets in the Mars passenger modules,” said Sandra apprehensively.
     
    “The passenger modules on the Mars rotate to provide a permanent quarter-gee artificial gravity,” said Chastity. “So the passenger toilets are very much like airline toilets. These are designed so they will function with the gravity pointing in any direction including zero gee.” Chastity reached over Sandra’s shoulder and pulled on the back of the toilet. The whole toilet easily swung forward—rotating bodily on a pivot hidden in the wall.
     
    Sandra’s nose wrinkled. “I’ve heard about the problems with those zero-gee toilets ...” she said,