OUTSIDE SATURN

By ROBERT ERNEST GILBERT

Illustrated by RICHARD KLUGA

Gangsters were out of date, and the ice-sweeper
was an unlikely thing to steal. But Vicenzo
was a streak, so what else could Henry do?

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Infinity January 1958.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Aziz ripped the radio from Henry's spacesuit and carefully resealed the panel. "Dis'll be the weldin' of ya, kid," Aziz said, crinkling his round, sallow face in an attempt to smile. "Yer name'll be in ever' yap—in our orbit, dat is."

"Vicenzo figured it right, kid," Aziz said. He gestured with powerful arms too long for his short body. "Ya'll hit dat ole sweeper square on the bulb. Vicenzo's a streak."

"I'm a genius," Vicenzo admitted. He smoothed the black bangs covering his forehead to the eyebrows, and he fingered the pointed sideburns reaching to his chin. "You jump into space, Henry, and then we'll increase velocity and sink into the Rings."

Aziz begged, "Do us a blazer, kid. We won't go far. Too low on fuel." He lowered the helmet over Henry's bushy, blond hair and ruddy face and clamped it shut.

Vicenzo and Aziz left Henry in the airvalve and closed the inner door. When the valve emptied to vacuum, Henry reluctantly lowered the outer door and stepped to the magnetized platform.

Henry stood twenty meters above Ring B of the Rings of Saturn. Below him, balls of ice, metal, rock, and assorted cosmic debris flowed slowly past with stars occasionally visible between the whirling particles. To either side, the billions of tiny moons blended with distance to form a solid, glaring white band. Henry bent his knees and dived into space.

Holding his body stiff with a practiced rigidity, and cautiously moving arms and legs to check any tendency to tumble, Henry glided above the Rings. Turning his head, he saw exhaust spurt from the collection of spherical cabins, tanks, and motors that was the spaceship; and the craft moved from his line of sight, leaving him alone.

Henry drifted above a flat surface more than sixty-six thousand kilometers wide. To his left, Ring B extended to the black circle of the Cassini Division which separated it from the less brilliant Ring A. To his right, the gleam of Ring B abruptly changed to the dimness of the Crape Ring through which the surface of Saturn was visible. Of the giant planet, forty-three thousand kilometers away, Henry saw but half a crescent marked with vague white and yellow bands and obscure spots.

Red and green lights blinked ahead. Most of the approaching ice-sweeper was shadowed and invisible against the blackness of space. Henry saw no lighted windows, but he experimentally aimed his signal torch at a dome on top of the space station.

Moving with the exact velocity of the Ring, the sweeper, a bundle of huge cylindrical tanks bound together with fragile girders, apparently grew larger. A rectangular snout, swinging from side to side and probing into the Ring, dangled below the front of the sweeper. Dancing in mutual gravitational attraction, the tiny moons constantly closed the open lane behind the snout.

Henry blinked his torch and saw its red reflection in the sweeper's observation dome, but no one answered the signal. Gaudy with lights, the station drifted past below Henry's level and nearly one hundred meters away.

Henry struggled futilely in his suit and tumbled through space. He saw the flaming arch of the Milky Way and then the immense shadow of Saturn stretching black across the Rings. Somewhere, the bright exhaust of a distant spaceship streaked across the stars.

By missing the ice-sweeper, he would continue on a spiral course down toward Saturn, until he at last fell into the methane; or, if his falling body accelerated enough, he might establish an orbit closer to the planet and revolve around it, until he died of thirst. Vicenzo and Aziz would never find him and would probably not search long.

Fire shot past Henry's gyrating figure. A thin cable followed the small rocket. Henry's flailing arms struck the cable, and his gauntleted hands gripped the strands. He pulled back the spent rocket, and the missile's magnetic head clanked against his spacesuit. The lifeline reeled him toward the station.

A hairless, brown, deeply wrinkled face watched Henry from a small window beside an open airvalve. The cable pulled Henry to the muzzle of a rocket launcher. He jerked the magnetic head loose and shut himself into the valve. He slid the inner door open and, weakly kicking his legs, floated on his back into the sweeper.

An old man, the owner of the wrinkled face, stopped Henry from drifting into the far wall of the cramped compartment. The old man wore shorts and a sleeveless shirt, and his shrunken limbs seemed to have no muscles. He drew Henry down to the magnetized deck and removed the space helmet.

"You're just a boy!" the man wheezed in a cracked voice. "Where'd you come from, boy?"

Henry, watching through half-closed eyes, almost said that he was twenty years old. Then he remembered to mutter, "Water."

The old man said, "How'd you get out here? There's been no ships in days. What are you doing here all by yourself? I almost missed you. You'd been on a bad course if I had. Just happened to see your torch twirling around out there. Ain't many people can come that close with a life rocket and not hit a fellow. For a second, I thought the rocket was going to bust you. Of course, being skillful the way I am, it didn't seem likely, but I—"

"Water? Why sure. How long you been drifting, boy? Must be mighty thirsty. What's your name? I'm Ranjit. I've never got used to people not telling their last names. Of course, even when I was your age, most people called each other by their first names. I can't hardly remember what my last name is. You might not think it to look at me, but I'm 107 years old. Here, let's get you out of that suit and see what kind of shape you're in."

Horizontal and vertical wrinkles formed ragged crosshatching on Ranjit's forehead. His nose and ears were large and grotesque with age. He unsealed the spacesuit at the waist and, holding Henry against the deck with one hand, pulled off the top section.

"Water!" Henry gasped. Peeping secretly, he saw that the teletype, near the airvalve, was dismantled, with the parts tied in bunches floating over the empty case. He located the radio above an aluminum desk in the far corner. He could see no visular set anywhere.

Ranjit dragged off the lower section of the suit, leaving Henry resplendent in orange knickers and red blouse. "How do you feel?" Ranjit asked. "What ship are you from? I don't see how they could just leave you. I'd better report this. They must be looking for you. Funny I haven't heard about it. Of course, the teletype's out of whack. I'm fixing it. I'm handy that way, fixing things. The heater broke down the other day, but I've got it going good now. I've started melting ice again. The tanks were about empty after that last ship fueled up. The Asteroid Ann, it was, or was it the Mimas Mae? They've both been by lately, but—"

"Water!" Henry pleaded. He had to do something to make Ranjit leave the compartment. He tried to listen for sounds that would locate the other crew members. Holding his handsome blond head in his hands, he sat up. The movement lifted his body from the deck, leaving his metal-soled shoes attached, so that he sat in mid-air.

"Water?" said Ranjit. "If there's one thing I've got, it's water. Let me see, there must be a flask someplace." He rummaged in the netting that covered two opposite walls of the compartment and secured an incredible clutter of weightless tools, books, food cases, clothing, oxygen tanks, spacesuit parts, wire, tubing, and other items. Still talking, Ranjit vanished through an opening almost concealed by the net.

Henry leaped to the radio. He whipped a pair of insulated snips from his pocket and cut through the electric cord in four places. He thrust the severed pieces behind the desk and stood listening. Somewhere, Ranjit continued talking, but Henry heard no answering voices. The only other sounds were the whine of electric motors and the throb of pumps. Henry pulled out a screwdriver and paused as he noticed a sign above the desk. The sign said:

Shaking his head, Henry released the clamps, turned the radio, pried off the back, and stabbed and slashed at the interior with the screwdriver. He replaced the back and returned to his position on the deck just in time.

"—really should," Ranjit continued, walking through the door. "You're lucky I saw you at all. Of course, I'm watchful all the time. Would you believe I've been right here on this sweeper for nine years? Here's some water, boy."

Henry squirted water from the flexible flask into his mouth. Ranjit said, "You ain't as thirsty as I thought you was. How come you wasn't calling for help?"

"What were you doing in a bunged-up suit like that? You'll never live to be as old as me if you take such chances. If this station had visular, I'd have picked you up in that, but the company said I wouldn't have no use for it."

"Everybody who? Are you hungry? How long since you had anything to eat? There's nobody here but me. Karoly and Wilbur both passed beyond, Wilbur just two weeks ago. He was only 94 too. The company's sending some help, they say. I don't see how they expect one man to run an ice-sweeper, even if he is handy like me. This is a dangerous job, although you might not think so. Do you realize, young fellow, we're whizzing around Saturn once every nine hours, four minutes, and twelve seconds? That's an orbital velocity of nineteen point eight kilometers per second! We've got to go that fast to stay in this orbit."

"Think what would happen if something slowed us down!" Ranjit exclaimed. "We'd start falling toward Saturn and finally crash! Meteors are scarce out here, but what if a spaceship came around retrograde and smashed this station head-on? There ain't a thing I can do if it starts falling. Part of it's a ship, but the company took the motor out. All I've got is the flywheel steering gear. The control room's right up there above my bunk."

Ranjit pointed to a sandwich bunk hoisted against the pipes and conduits that crisscrossed the ceiling in abstract patterns. He said, "I can spin this sweeper like a top, if I want to, but I can't accelerate it." He squinted through the small window beside the airvalve. "Speaking of spaceships," he rambled, "there's one out there now. Wonder who it is? There's not a thing on the schedule. Looks like they would've called in."

Moving to the radio, the old man fumbled with knobs and switches and pounded on the cabinet with his fist. "This radio's deader than a asteroid!" he yelled. "First the teletype and now the radio. I'm supposed to report all ships to Titan, but how can I with no equipment? Maybe that's your ship come hunting you. What did you say your name is?"

"Henry, huh? My name's Ranjit. I better get up to the big valve. That ship'll be clinching in a minute."

"Sign? Oh, there over the desk? I just put that there to confuse people. It's a puzzle that spells out something in an old-time language, Latin maybe. Christian Huygens published that way back in 1655. He used a puzzle while he was checking some more. He was the first man to figure out what was around Saturn. It means something like, 'There's a flat ring that's inclined to the ecliptic that circles the planet without touching it.' Well, let go of me. I've got to see about that ship."

"Get hurt? What are you talking about, Henry? That's no way to talk to a fellow that saved your life. If it hadn't been for me, you'd still be falling. You were slower than the sweeper. I saved your life!"

Henry blushed in sudden shame and released Ranjit's arm. "Why, why, I—I guess you did!" he stammered.

Henry lived in an era that had been preceded by wars which destroyed more than half the people of Earth. It was a time of rigidly controlled population, highly specialized training, and constantly increasing life expectancy. Each human life was considered a distinct and invaluable thing. Since the end of the final war, the Crime War, seventy years before, murder had become an obscene and almost meaningless word, and natural death was rarely mentioned. Saving another person's life was considered the most magnificent act that anyone could perform, and almost the only way to become a public hero, since actors, entertainers, policemen, and officials were thought to be no better than anyone else.

Something struck twice against the hull of the ice-sweeper. "There's a clumsy pilot!" Ranjit yelled. "I better go see what he's trying to do."

"Wait," Henry said, grabbing the old man's arm again. "I—" He stopped speaking and frowned in confusion. When he considered recent events, he realized that Vicenzo and Aziz, by their inexpert maneuvering, had almost caused him to pass beyond. All of Henry's education, haphazard as it had been, emphasized the belief that a person who caused another to pass beyond could only be regarded with loathing. A person who saved a life must be treated with eternal gratitude and veneration by the beneficiary.

Ranjit said, "Let's go, Henry! What are you up to? I've had a feeling you ain't exactly zeroed."

"Listen. Somebody coming aboard," Ranjit said, jerking his arm from Henry's relaxed grip and facing the doorway in the netting. Henry waited for Vicenzo and Aziz to enter the compartment.

Two people entered, but they were not Vicenzo and Aziz. The first was a small, thin man with a long, sad face. He wore a somber black oversuit. The second was a girl no older than Henry.

"Please, Joachim," the girl whispered, "don't antagonize them. Ask about the fuel first."

Henry gaped at the girl, and his face grew hot. Since he had spent his young life among the Moons and Asteroids, never going farther sunward than Pallas, he had seen few girls his own age and none as beautiful as this one. Her hair, dyed in tiger stripes of black and yellow, was parted in the middle and, held by silver wires, extended from the sides of her head like wings. She wore blue hose, silver fur shorts, and a golden sweater sparkling with designs in mirror thread. Metal-soled shoes too large for her feet slightly marred the total effect.

"High," said the man with the sad face. "I am Joachim, Second Vice-President of the SPRS. This is our Corresponding Secretary, Morna." His deep voice rolled around the compartment as if the lower keys of an orchestrana had been struck.

"Low," Ranjit responded. "I'm Ranjit, and this is Henry. Why didn't you make an appointment? The tanks are about empty, and you may have to wait several hours. What do you feed your atomics, water or hydrogen? It'll be even longer if you need hydrogen. I haven't done any electrolysis today. I wasn't expecting—Look at that girl, Henry! I'm 107 years old, but I can still appreciate a sight like that! I don't see how a homely fellow like you, Joachim, ever got such a luscious girl."

"Ours is strictly a business relationship," said Morna with indignant formality. "We do need fuel, Ranjit. We planned to refuel on Dione, but the moon was not where Joachim thought it should be. If—"

"Later, Morna," Joachim interrupted in a hollow voice. "I have come thirteen hundred million kilometers on a mission, and I intend to fulfill it! I represent the SPRS. We have written to you, Ranjit, but you have never answered."

Ranjit said, "The SPRS? Oh, yeah, you're the ones are always sending me spacemail. It's about all I ever get, and I appreciate it. I don't get much mail, out here, and I don't see many people. This fellow here, Henry, was the first I'd seen in days. I saved Henry's life, or did he tell you?"

"How wonderful!" Morna exclaimed in awe. "I've never spoken to a Saver before! Think of it, Joachim! Ranjit saved Henry!"

"You're a hero!" Morna cried, seizing Ranjit's hands. "How does it feel to be a Saver? It must be sublime!" She turned to Henry and grasped his arms. "How do you feel, Henry? You must almost worship Ranjit! Such a noble man!"

Ranjit cackled. "Look at him blush! I don't believe he's been around girls much. Since Joachim don't have no claim on her, Henry, I'd do some sweet talking if I was your age. I pulled Henry in on a lifeline, or he'd be falling into the methane by now."

Joachim said, "Everyone be quiet and allow me to finish! I have come thirteen hundred million kilometers on a mission, and I intend to fulfill it! I am Second Vice-President of the Society for the Preservation of the Rings of Saturn. You, Ranjit, and the people on the other three stations in the Rings are destroying the most glorious and inspiring feature of the Solar System! The divine pinnacle of Creation! A miracle that may be unique in the Universe! You are destroying the Rings of Saturn for the greedy, selfish purpose of selling fuel to spaceships!"

"Spaceships got to have fuel," Ranjit said, "and don't talk so loud. Ice is scarce, you know, unless you want to chase comets. One side of Iapetus has a sheet, and Titan has some. If you go on in, you'll find a little on some of the Moons of Jupiter, and a few of the Asteroids are—"

Joachim said, "You are destroying the Rings of Saturn! This is the most despicable crime in a long history of the devastation of nature by greedy men! When you have eventually melted the last crystal of ice and departed with your hoard, Saturn will spin desolately alone through the night, shorn of his glorious halo that has been the solace and inspiration of man since prehistoric times!"

"Not when they never had telescopes, it wasn't very inspiring," Ranjit said. "I don't see why you're jumping on me, Joachim. I never answered your letters because there wasn't nothing to say. I just work here. You'll have to talk to the company to—"

"The Saturnine Fuel and Oxygen Company is headed by stubborn men!" Joachim said. "They refuse to consider or answer our demands! That is why I have come to appeal directly to the operators of these ice-sweepers! You must immediately stop sweeping the Rings into your tanks! You must tell your superiors that you refuse to destroy the crowning glory of the Solar System!"

Ranjit said, "They'd just hire somebody else. I don't know as we are destroying the Rings very fast. This was the first sweeper put in orbit nine years ago, and I can't tell no difference in Ring B. There's an awful lot of stuff in the Rings. Some of the balls are solid ice, but some are just ice coated, so we melt it off and throw out the core. Some don't have ice on it, so we throw it back. We don't use hydroponics on the sweepers. We get plenty of oxygen when we take off hydrogen, so we toss a lot of solid CO₂ overboard, too. No, we ain't taking as much from the Rings as you think. They'll get ionic motors to working, one of these days, and it won't take hardly no fuel at all."

"You've got a hard hull, anyhow," Ranjit said, "coming out here telling me to stop when you need fuel yourself. Supposing I stopped right now. How would you get away? And what would I do? I got a bad heart. About half of it's artificial. That's why I've been living under zero G for fifteen years. I can't go back to Earth. The docs say more than four-tenths G would do for me. Before I got this job, I was living in a hulk orbiting around Titan, just waiting to pass beyond. Now I got something useful to do and something to live for. I may last till I'm 120."

Henry, who had been stupidly smiling at Morna with too much intensity to follow the discussion, jerked his head around and gasped, "You, you can't stand acceleration?"

Ranjit said, "Not enough to go anywhere. I got a bad heart, a very bad heart. About half of it's—"

Vicenzo and Aziz, spacesuited, crowded into the compartment through the doorway in the netting. "Dis is a stickup!" Aziz announced over a loudspeaker on the chest of his suit.

Since deadly weapons were extremely rare and difficult to obtain, the pair had armed themselves with long, hand-made knives. Vicenzo also carried a cumbersome rocket launcher, a remodeled lifeline tube.

"Gangsters!" Ranjit wheezed. "I ain't seen a gangster in twenty years! I fought them in the Crime War! I—"

"Shut up, old man," Vicenzo ordered. His sideburns twitched around his cruel mouth. "Everything fixed here, Henry?"

"Why didn't you fix the other ship?" Vicenzo said. "We had to clamp on, because it was blocking the valve. We came through it, and you hadn't even smashed the radio. There might've been a crew aboard, for all you knew."

"Vicenzo's a streak, kid," Aziz said. The short, wide man's sallow face looked horrible behind the faceplate. "You oughta done like Vicenzo said," he advised. "You won't get nowhere goofin' like dat or—Hey, take a check on the doll! I never thought to see nothin' like dat on a sweeper! Lucky me!"

"She's not in this," Henry said. "She's from the other ship. Leave her alone, Aziz."

Morna, who had stood as if frozen, turned to Henry and squealed, "You're a gangster? How awful, after I thought you were nice, letting Ranjit save your life!"

"A gangster!" Morna shrieked. She slapped Henry twice across the face, knocking his shoes loose from the magnetic deck. He flipped and fell against the net with his feet touching the ceiling.

In the confusion, Joachim broke from his terrified trance and dived through the door. "I'll get 'im!" Aziz roared and, waving his knife, followed the fleeing Second Vice-President.

As Henry struggled to regain an erect position, Morna wailed in his ear, "I thought you were good and handsome, but you're a gangster! You didn't deserve to be saved!" She slapped him again, knocking him to the deck, and began to weep wildly. Under no gravity, the tears spread in a film across her face. Surprised, she stopped crying and wiped her cheeks with her hands. A few tears flew into the air as shimmering globes.

Joachim floated into the compartment. His long chin was bruised, and he muttered, "Save the Rings!" Aziz, grinning, followed and stood on guard before the door. Morna gasped, darted to her employer, and made helpless gestures.

"All right, now," Vicenzo said. "Let's get this jaunt moving. Henry, tie these cubes up and—"

"We can't do it, Vicenzo," Henry said, staring in horror at Joachim's half-conscious body.

Henry said, "It's the old man. His heart's bad. The acceleration would k-kill him!"

"It's all in the orbit," Vicenzo said. "I told you that when you clinched with us."

"But he really did save me! He pulled me in on a lifeline. I would've missed the station. I wouldn't be surprised if you two tried to m-murder me! I'm checking out. The whole deal's off. Both of you get back in the ship and go! I'll give you that much of a chance. I'll stay here and take Revision, or whatever's coming to me."

Vicenzo aimed his rocket launcher at Henry's midriff. He growled, "Too bad you turned cube, Henry."

"Don't fire that thing in here!" Ranjit yelled. "You'll blow a hole through the hull! What are you fellows up to? I never saw such mixed-up goings on."

Henry said, "They're going to steal the ice-sweeper. That's why I had to be taken aboard, so I could wreck your equipment and keep you from reporting us or calling the other stations. The sweeper is supposed to vanish without a trace. I'm sorry I ruined your radio, Ranjit. I was supposed to try to keep the crew from becoming suspicious while Vicenzo and Aziz were clinching. They're going to move the sweeper into a Sun orbit, somewhere, and use it for a base. They're going to hijack spaceships."

"Of all the crazy schemes!" Ranjit snorted. "You gangsters are space happy! You're ready for the psychodocs! You can't get away with gangstering these days! I fought your grandfathers in the Crime War. I was in the Battle of Jupiter Orbit. We whipped you good, and nearly wiped you out, but, ever so often, a few of you still turn up and try silly stuff like this. Solar Government will get you!"

Vicenzo said, "Shut up, old man! Aziz, hold the girl. If the rest of you don't behave while I'm tying you, Aziz will stab her."

"Dat'd be a awful waste," Aziz said, twisting Morna's arms behind her back. Morna began to cry again. Teardrops floated like tiny planets.

Vicenzo pulled a long cord from his pack and lifted Joachim with one hand. "Save the Rings," Joachim mumbled. "You are desecrating the glory of the Solar System." Vicenzo lashed Joachim's wrists to an overhead pipe.

Vicenzo said, "All right, Henry, you and the old man put your hands against that pipe."

"I'm going to shut you up, if you don't do it yourself," Vicenzo promised. He secured Ranjit beside Joachim and then started tying Henry's wrists to the pipe.

"Be careful what you do to the sweeper, Vicenzo," Henry begged. "Ranjit was telling me how dangerous it is. If anything causes the velocity to drop, we'll fall on Saturn."

"You think I'm stupid? That's the way with anything in an orbit. The closer to a planet, the faster you've got to go. Bring the girl, Aziz."

Morna struggled and kicked the spacesuits while Vicenzo tied her next to Henry. Aziz said, "You think there's really a chance of us fallin'? I'd hate to plop in all that methane."

"No," said Vicenzo. "Old man, where's the control room? We're moving this whole station with the two ships clamped on."

"Hadn't we oughta put some water in our tanks, in case we gotta scram quick?" Aziz asked. "They're about empty."

Ranjit chuckled. "You'll have to wait four hours to tank up. I just got the heater going a while ago. There's an SG ship due in soon. You better give up."

"You're lying in strings!" Vicenzo said. "You must have fuel for the sweeper's motors. Where's the control room?"

"We can find it quicker," Vicenzo said and turned away. Aziz followed him through the door.

"What?" Joachim muttered. "Where? The gangsters!" He stared around the compartment and cried, "There is one! Henry is a gangster! You are also, Ranjit! I have long suspected that the destruction of the Rings of Saturn could only be the work of gangsters! No one—Morna! Are you injured?"

"No," Morna blubbered. "Stay away from me, Henry!" One of her wings of black and yellow hair had fallen over her face.

"Sorry," Henry said, blushing and moving his legs. "I didn't notice which way I was drifting."

Joachim said, "Where are the other gangsters? Have they gone to steal my ship? It is rented! The SPRS would never recover if we had to pay for the ship!"

"Let's figure some way to get loose," Ranjit suggested. "Those fellows won't find the control room out there. No motors, anyhow, but all they've got to do is wait till enough fuel melts and use their ship to move the sweeper. Think how that'd look on my record."

Ranjit said, "When you get to be my age, you'll find you can do lots of things they didn't teach in school. How'd you clinch up with two fellows like them, Henry? They're space happy, both of them. Didn't you have no education?"

"Not much," Henry said. "Me and my parents were shipwrecked in the Asteroids when I was only ten. Mother tried to teach me Honesty, and Morality, and all the rest, but it didn't take very well. We were there eight years before we were picked up. They put me in school, then, with a bunch of kids. I didn't like it, so I skipped and worked in the mines on Titan. Then I got mixed up with Vicenzo and Aziz. This is the first job I've pulled with them."

"At least you changed your mind and tried to stop it," Ranjit said, tugging at his bonds.

"The snips!" Henry exclaimed. "There's a pair of snips in my side pocket. Maybe you can reach them, Ranjit, if I—No, they're on the wrong side. Morna, will you try to get them if I can put my, uh, pocket next to your hand?"

"You've got to." Henry braced his feet against the deck and pushed, bending his knees as his weightless body flew into the air. He twisted, and the side of his left leg struck the ceiling. Shoving with his toe, he forced his contorted body back toward the pipe. "There!" he grunted. "Can you reach them?"

Morna said, "I don't know. My wrists are tied so tight." Her hand touched Henry's hip and sent him swinging in the opposite direction. His legs stopped across Ranjit's chest. The old man lowered his head and butted Henry back toward Morna.

Henry lay against the ceiling with his legs bent, his back bowed, and his left elbow pressed against his lower ribs. Morna's hand fluttered at his pocket. "I've got—No, it's a screwdriver," she said. "Now, I've got the snips!"

"Don't drop them," Henry pleaded. He thrust his feet back to the deck. "Try to cut the line around my wrist. Ow! That's my hand!"

Henry twisted his wrist in the loosened cord and pulled his left hand free. He said, "Thanks. Give me the snips."

Morna said, "Promise to cut me down first. I don't want to be tied with you loose."

Henry snatched the snips from her and cut the line binding his right hand. Morna said, "Gangster trick."

"Not so loud," Henry said, freeing her. "Go up in the control room, Ranjit. You told me you still had flywheel steering. If it won't hurt you, you can make them think you're decelerating. It'll confuse them, at least."

"Yeah," Ranjit chuckled, "that's a bright idea. I was about to think of it myself."

Henry said, "Morna, you go with Ranjit. Joachim, you stay with me, and we'll waylay them. We'll find something for weapons."

Ranjit pulled the sandwich bunk down on its rods, crouched on the bunk, and pushed open the overhead hatch. Joachim said, "I do not intend to engage in a brawl with gangsters. Come, Morna, let us take our chances in our own ship. We—"

Joachim squeaked, bounded to the bunk, and sprang through the hatch. "Bet he bumped his head," Ranjit hoped. "Up you go, Morna. Strap yourself to a couch."

Morna climbed on the bunk and through the hatch. Ranjit followed, "It's a trick," Morna said. "He'll be alone with his gangster friends."

"There's a set of spanner wrenches right there in the net," Ranjit said, pointing. "There's a roll of wire over yonder." He closed the hatch.

Henry raised the bunk back to the ceiling. He fumbled in the accumulation behind the netting, throwing out a case of canned beans, a one-volume encyclopedia, a bundle of papers, and a broken clock. He found the wrenches and selected a large one half a meter long. He searched again, pulled out a coil of electric cable, and stuffed it under his belt. Jumping across the compartment, he clung to the net above the door.

Vicenzo and Aziz had not turned off their loudspeakers. "Nothing but tanks and ladderchutes," Vicenzo was saying. "There has to be a control room somewhere."

Aziz said, "Maybe there's another door behind all the junk in there. I'll get it outta the old man."

As Vicenzo's spacesuited figure appeared below in the doorway, Henry swung his arm. The spanner clanged against the back of Vicenzo's helmet. The man tumbled across the compartment into the netting. The rocket launcher whirled from his hands, struck the ceiling, and bounced to the deck.

Slashing upward with his knife, Aziz twisted into the compartment. Henry met the thrust with the spanner and knocked the knife from the squat man's hand. Aziz bellowed, "Ya greasy cube! I'll squash ya!"

Aziz swung his gauntleted fist. Henry struck Aziz across the arm with the spanner, denting the metal of the spacesuit. Vicenzo jerked his head from a box and roared, "Get him! He busted my skull!"

Henry jumped from the net to the corner beside the desk. The two men slowly stalked him. Vicenzo had his knife, and Aziz experimentally flexed his metal-sheathed hands.

"We're going to fix you, Henry," Vicenzo promised. "You're just a little smarter than you should be."

"He ain't smart atall," Aziz growled. "What for did ya want to turn cube, Henry? I told ya yer name'd be in ever' yap, if ya stuck with us. Now, nobody'll know ya when I get done."

Henry debated with himself, trying to decide if the situation justified a falsehood. He said, "Get away while you can! Ranjit says he'll crash this sweeper before he'll let you steal it! He's in the control room now."

Henry raised the spanner and kept his eyes on Vicenzo's knife. Aziz moved to Henry's right. The deck seemed to tilt. Henry clutched a leg of the desk to keep from falling.

Vicenzo and Aziz, waving their arms, leaned at an increasingly acute angle. Their boots broke from the magnetic deck. They fell slowly, accelerating at about two meters per second, and dropped into the netted wall which had become the floor.

Henry dangled below what was now the ceiling. Objects fell from the net beside him. Tools, machine parts, books, and canned food slowly showered down on Vicenzo and Aziz, who thrashed and swore in the growing junk heap.

"We're deceleratin'!" Aziz yelled. "That old man really is gonna kill us! We'll crash on Saturn!"

"That hatch over the bunk!" Vicenzo said as he tried to stand. "That's where they went! The control room!" A box of cans emptied over his helmet.

"We're fallin'!" Aziz yelled. "It's forcin' us to the front of the station! Let's get out!" He stumbled through the litter toward the airvalve which was now up one wall.

Vicenzo said, "Look out that window! The stars are streaking! He's just spinning the sweeper! It's centrifugal force!"

"It's deceleration!" Aziz insisted, jumping at the airvalve. The dismantled teletype slipped from its clamps and fell on the man's head. He slid back down the wall.

Beside Henry, the net broke loose. A slow, miscellaneous rain, including two sandwich bunks and part of a spaceship landing leg, fell on Vicenzo and Aziz. Henry felt the desk slipping. He dropped on his feet in the clutter. The desk clattered down beside him.

Stumbling and staggering, Henry reached Vicenzo, who struggled under a bunk, a plastic packing case, part of a pump, and a bundle of tubing. Henry took the electric cable from his belt and formed a loop. He drew the loop tight around Vicenzo's arms. Vicenzo pushed the case off his legs and tried to stand. Henry flipped the cable around and around Vicenzo and bound his arms to his sides.

"Get him, Aziz!" Vicenzo called in rage. Henry tied Vicenzo's feet together and cut off the remaining cable with his snips.

Aziz had grasped the frame of the airvalve and was trying to slide the door open. Henry selected a battered oxygen tank from the heap, lifted it in both hands, and hurled it. The missile caught Aziz across the back of his spacesuit. He fell into the jumbled equipment on the floor. Quickly, Henry repeated his looping and tying operations. Then he sat on an empty trunk and tried to slow his rapid breathing.

"Le'me go, Henry!" Aziz demanded, somewhat dazed. "We're fallin'!" Henry opened the switch on the spacesuit's loudspeaker.

The bunk in the wall that had been the ceiling unfolded, and Ranjit's wrinkled face peeped through the exposed hatch. "What a mess!" he chuckled. "Things wasn't fastened down like they should of been. Of course, it never needed to be before. I never knowed—"

"It's just two-tenths G," Ranjit said. "Hang on, and I'll take us back to no weight. This old sweeper's spinning like a top."

Ranjit's head withdrew. Henry tried to find a handhold in the pile of material. His feet left the tangle. Accompanied by assorted items, including the bound figures of Vicenzo and Aziz, he floated in the air.

Twisting, Henry placed his feet on the magnetized deck. Objects containing steel settled around him. He pulled Vicenzo and Aziz down, and, as Vicenzo began to curse in ancient terms, silenced his loudspeaker also.

Joachim appeared clutching his stomach. "I shall wait in my ship for the fuel," he gagged, dodging a floating chest, "away from this criminal madhouse!"

Morna and Ranjit dropped into the compartment. Ranjit kicked aside a crate and said, "Good, Henry. I guess you saved our lives, or mine anyhow. Those fellows would have passed me beyond if they had accelerated the sweeper, and you sure kept them from stealing it."

"Wait, Morna, please," said Henry. He blushed a bright red. "Won't, won't I ever see you again?"

Ranjit said, "He's not much of a gangster, and he changed his mind. Of course, those two will tell about his part in this, and Joachim's sure to report it. SG will ship you to Earth, Henry, for Revision, but that won't be too bad, just a sort of school, and you're good as Revised already, the way you acted."

"Tell you what," Ranjit said. "It'll be three hours before there's enough fuel for Joachim's ship. Why don't you two go up to the dome and see the sights, and forget all this? We'll be passing into the Shadow in about ten minutes, and you'll see one of the prettiest things there is, Saturn from the dark side. The atmosphere looks like a gold rainbow above the Rings."

Morna stared at the deck. The corners of her mouth curved upward. She said, "I'm sorry I slapped you, Henry."