project for securing and sealing in really good vacua in
various electronic devices brought up by Joe and his crew in the supply
ship.

But sometimes Joe managed to talk to Sally.

It was very satisfying to see her on the television screen in personal
conversation. Their talk couldn't be exactly private, because it could
be picked up elsewhere. It probably was. But she told Joe how she felt,
and she wanted to read him the newspaper stories based on the reports
Brent had sent down. Brent was in command of the Platform now that
Sanford lay in a resolute coma in his bunk. But Joe discouraged such
waste of time.

"How's the food?" asked Sally. "Are you people getting any fresh
vegetables from the hydroponic garden?"

They were, and Joe told her so. The huge chamber in which sun-lamps
glowed for a measured number of hours in each twenty-four produced
incredibly luxuriant vegetation. It kept the air of the ship breathable.
It even changed the smell of it from time to time, so that there was no
feeling of staleness.

"And the cooking system's really good?" she wanted to know. Sally was
partly responsible for that, too. "And how about the bunks?"

"I sleep now," Joe admitted.

That had been difficult. It was possible to get used to weightlessness
while awake. One would slip, sometimes, and find himself suddenly tense
and panicky because he'd abruptly noticed all over again that he was
falling. But--and yet again Sally was partly responsible--the bunks were
designed to help in that difficulty. Each bunk had an inflatable top
blanket. One crawled in and settled down, and turned the petcock that
inflated the cover. Then it held one quite gently but reassuringly in
place. It was possible to stir and to turn over, but the feeling of
being held fast was very comforting. With a little care about what one
thought of before going to sleep, one could get a refreshing eight
hours' rest. The bunks were luxury.

Sally said: "The date and time's a secret, of course, because it might
be overheard, but there'll be another ship up before too long. It's
bringing landing rockets for you to come back with."

"That's good!" said Joe. It would feel good to set foot on solid ground
again. He looked at Sally and said eagerly, "We've got a date the
evening I get back?"

"We've got a date," she said, nodding.

But it couldn't very well be a definite date. There were people with
ideas that ran counter to plans for Joe to get back to Earth a