in the air lock began pulling out the
methane-laden atmosphere, they began to bulge slightly, but not
excessively. Then nitrogen, extracted from the ammonia snow that was so
plentiful, filled the room, diluting the remaining inflammable gases to
a harmless concentration.

Then that mixture was pumped out, to be replaced by a mixture of
approximately 20 per cent oxygen and 80 per cent nitrogen--common, or
garden-variety, air.

Mike the Angel cracked his helmet and sniffed. "_Guk_," he said. "If I
ever faint and someone gives me smelling salts, I'll flay him alive with
a coarse rasp."

"Yessir," said Chief Multhaus, as he began to shuck his suit. "But if I
had my druthers, I'd druther you'd figure out some way to get all the
ammonia out of the joints of this suit."

The other men, sniffing and coughing, agreed in attitude if not in
voice.

It wasn't really as bad as they pretended; indeed, the odor of ammonia
was hardly noticeable. But it made a good griping point.

The inner door opened at last, and the men straggled through.

"G'night, Chief," said Mike the Angel.

"Night, sir," said Multhaus. "See you in the morning."

"Yeah. Night." Mike trudged toward the companionway that led toward the
wardroom. If Keku or Jeffers happened to be there, he'd have a quick
round of _Uma ni to_. Jeffers called the game "double solitaire
for three people," and Keku said it meant "horses' two heads," but Mike
had simply found it as a new game to play before bedtime.

He looked forward to it.

But he had something else to do first.

Instead of hanging up his suit in the locker provided, he had bunched it
under his arm--except for the helmet--and now he headed toward
maintenance.

He met Ensign Vaneski just coming out, and gave him a broad smile.
"Mister Vaneski, I got troubles."

Vaneski smiled back worriedly. "Yes, sir. I guess we all do. What is it,
sir?"

Mike gestured at the bundle under his arm. "I abraded the sleeve of my
suit while I was working today. I wish you'd take a look at it. I'm
afraid it'll need a patch."

For a moment, Vaneski looked as though he'd suddenly developed a
headache.

"I know you're supposed to be off duty now," Mike said soothingly, "but
I don't want to get myself killed wearing a leaky suit tomorrow. I'll
help you work on it if--"

Vaneski grinned quickly. "Oh no, sir. That'll be all right. I'll give it
a test, anyway, to check leaks. If it needs repair, it shouldn't take
too long.