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a sprinkling of luck and the invincibility of our
    radiation proof panels," Carialle said, "we've evaded the
    minions of the evil wizard. Now its time for a brew." She
    tested herself for adrenaline fatigue, and allowed herself a
    brief feed of protein and vitamin B-complex.
    Keff tipped his glass up to her. Quick analysis told her
    that though the golden beverage looked like beer, it was
    the non-alcoholic electrolyte-replenisher Keff used after
    workouts. "Here's to your swift feet and clever ways, my
    lovely, and confusion to our enemies. Er, did my coffee
    come aboard?"
    "Yes, sir," she replied, flashing the image of a saluting
    marine on the wall. 'The storesmaster just had time to
    break out a little of the good stuff when Simeon passed the
    word down. I even got you a small quantity of chocolate.
    Best Demubian." Keff beamed.
    "Ah, Cari, now I know the ways you love me. Did you
    have time to load any of my special orders?" he asked, with
    a quirk of his head.
    "Now that you mention it, there were two boxes in the
    cargo hold with your name on them," Carialle said.
    Clang. BUMP! Clang. BUMP!
    The shining contraption of steel that was the Rotoflex
    had taken little time to put together, still less to watch the
    instructional video on how to use it. Keff sat on the leath-erette-covered, modified saddle with a stirrup-shaped,
    metal pulley in each outstretched hand. His broad face red
    from the effort, Keff slowly brought one fist around until it
    touched his collarbone, then let it out again. The heavy
    cables sang as they strained against the resistance coils, and
    relaxed with a heavy thump when Keff reached full extension. Squeezing his eyes shut, he dragged in the other fist.
    The tendons on his neck stood out cordlike under his
    sweat-glistening skin.
    'Two hundred and three," he grunted. "Uhhh! Two
    hundred and four. Two ..."
    "Look at me," Carialle said, dropping into the bass
    octave and adopting the spiel technique of so many tri-vid
    commercials. "Before I started the muscle-up exercise
    program I was a forty-four-kilogram weakling. Now look at
    me. You, too, can..."
    "All right," Keff said, letting go of the hand-weights.
    They swung in noisy counterpoint until the metal cables
    retracted into their arms. He arose from the exerciser seat
    and toweled off with the cloth slung over the end of his
    weight bench. T can acknowledge a hint when its delivered with a sledgehammer. I just wanted to see how much
    this machine can take."
    "Don't you mean how much you can take? One day
    you're going to rupture something," Carialle warned. She
    noted Keffs respiration at over two hundred pulses per
    minute, but it was dropping rapidly.
    "Most accidents happen in the home," Keff said, with a
    grin.
    "I really was sorry I had to interrupt your tryst with
    Susa," Carialle said for the twentieth time that shift.
    "No problem," Keff said, and Carialle could tell that this
    time he meant it. "It would have been a more pleasant way
    to get my heart rate up, but this did nicely, thank you." He
    yawned and rolled his shoulders to ease them, shooting
    one arm forward, then the other. "I'm for a shower and
    bed, lady dear."
    "Sleep well, knight in shining muscles."
    Shortly, the interior was quiet but for the muted sounds
    of machinery humming and gurgling. The SSS-900 technicians had done their work well, for all they'd been rushed
    by circumstances to finish. Carialle ran over the systems
    one at a time, logging in repair or replacement against the
    appropriate component. That sort of accounting took up
    litde time. Carialle found herself longing for company. A
    perverse notion since she knew it would be hours now
    before Keffwoke up.
    Carialle was not yet so far away from some of the miners' routes that she couldn't have exchanged gossip with
    other ships in the sector, but she didn't dare open up channels for fear of tipping off Maxwell-Corey to their
    whereabouts. The enforced isolation of silent running left
    her plenty of time