dman came down with a mild attack of
space-stomach--which meant no more drinking for him--and was off work
for a day. Then the pace picked up. The tubes were cleared and they
began laying the new lining for the landing blasts. There was no time
for thought after that. Mars' orbital station lay close when the work
was finished.

Ben slapped Feldman on the back. "Ya ain't bad for a greenie, Dan. We
all get six-day passes on Mars. Hit the sack now so you won't waste time
sleeping then. We'll hear it when the ship berths."

Feldman didn't hear it, but the others did. He felt Ben shaking his
shoulder, trying to drag him out of the sack. "Grab your junk, Dan."

Ben picked up Feldman's nearly empty bag and tossed it toward him,
before his eyes were fully open. He grabbed for it and missed. He
grabbed again, with Ben's laughter in his ears. The bag hit the wall and
fell open, spilling its contents.

Feldman began gathering it up, but the chief was no longer laughing. A
big hand grabbed up the space ticket suddenly, and there was no
friendliness now on Ben's face.

"Art Billing's card!" Ben told the other tubemen. "Five trips I made
with Art. He was saving his money, going to buy a farm on Mars. Five
trips and one more to go before he had enough. Now you show up with his
ticket!"

The tubemen moved forward toward Feldman. There was no indecision. To
them, apparently, trial had been held and sentence passed.

"Wait a minute," Feldman began. "Billings died of--"

A fist snaked past his raised hand and connected with his jaw. He
bounced off a wall. A wrench sailed toward him, glanced off his arm, and
ripped at his muscles. Another heavy fist struck.

Abruptly, Ben's voice cut through their yells. "Hold it!" He shoved
through the group, tossing men backwards. "Stow it! We can take care of
him later. Right now, this is captain's business. You fools want to lose
your leave?" He indicated two of the others. "You two bring him
along--and keep him quiet!"

The two grabbed Feldman's arms and dragged him along as the chief began
pulling his way forward through the tubes up towards the control section
of the ship. Feldman took a quick glance at their faces and made no
effort to resist; they obviously would have enjoyed any chance to subdue
him.

They were stopped twice by minor officers, then sent on. They finally
found the captain near the exit lock, apparently assisting the
passengers to leave. Most of them went on into the