mighty nothingness of infinite space.

The girl, totally unconcerned with thoughts of that vast emptiness,
stopped before a door that led off the corridor and opened it. "Mr.
Martin," she said, "these are the gentlemen who have an appointment with
you. Mr. Gerrol. Mr. Vandenbosch. Mr. Nguma." She called off each name
as the man bearing it walked awkwardly through the door. "Gentlemen,"
she finished, "this is Mr. Stanley Martin." Then she left, discreetly
closing the door.

The young man behind the desk in the metal-walled office stood up
smiling as the three men entered, offered his hand to each, and shook
hands warmly. "Sit down, gentlemen," he said, gesturing toward three
solidly built chairs that had been anchored magnetically to the
nickel-iron floor of the room.

"Well," he said genially when the three had seated themselves, "how was
the trip out?"

He watched them closely, without appearing to do so, as they made their
polite responses to his question. He was acquainted with them only
through correspondence; now was his first chance to evaluate them in
person.

Barnabas Nguma, a very tall man whose dark brown skin and eyes made a
sharp contrast with the white of the mass of tiny, crisp curls on his
head, smiled when he spoke, but there were lines of worry etched around
his eyes. "Pleasant enough, Mr. Martin. I'm afraid that steady one-gee
acceleration has left me unprepared for this low gravity."

"Well," said Stefan Vandenbosch, "it really isn't so bad, once you get
used to it. As long as it's steady, I don't mind it." He was a rather
chubby man of average height, with blond hair that was beginning to gray
at the temples and pale blue eyes that gave his face an expression of
almost childlike innocence.

Arthur Gerrol, the third man, was almost as light-complexioned as
Vandenbosch. His thinning hair was light brown, and his eyes were a deep
gray-blue, and the lines in his hard, blocky face gave him a look of
grim determination. "I agree, Stefan. It isn't the low gravity _per se_.
It's the doggone surges. We went from one gee to zero when the ship came
in for a landing at the pole of Threadneedle Street. Then, as we came
back down here, the gravity kept going up, and that ... what do you call
it? Coriolis force? Yeah, that's it. It made my head feel as though the
whole room was spinning." Then, realizing what he'd said, he laughed
sharply.

The man behind the desk laughed with him. "Yes, it is a bit
dis