Then he pulled
himself down by the netting. Once he touched the floor, his shoes seemed
to be sticky. The net and the plastic sidewalls were, of course, the
method by which a really large airlock was made practical. When this
ship was about to take off again, pumps would not labor for hours to
pump the air out. The sidewalls would inflate and closely enclose the
ship's hull, and so force the air in the lock back into the ship. Then
the pumps would work on the air behind the inflated walls--with nets to
help them draw the wall-stuff back to let the ship go free. The lock
could be used with only fifteen minutes for pumping instead of four
hours.

The door in the back of the lock clanked open. Joe tried to walk toward
it. He discovered his astounding clumsiness. To walk in magnetic-soled
shoes in weightlessness requires a knack. When Joe lifted one foot and
tried to swing the other forward, his body tried to pivot. When he
lifted his right foot, he had to turn his left slightly inward. His arms
tried to float absurdly upward. When he was in motion and essayed to
pause, his whole body tended to continue forward with a sedate toppling
motion that brought him down flat on his face. He had to put one foot
forward to check himself. He seemed to have no sense of balance. When he
stood still--his stomach queasy because of weightlessness--he found
himself tilting undignifiedly forward or back--or, with equal
unpredictability, sidewise. He would have to learn an entirely new
method of walking.

A man came in the lock, and Joe knew who it was. Sanford, the senior
scientist of the Platform's crew. Joe had seen him often enough on the
television screen in the Communications Room at the Shed. Now Sanford
looked nerve-racked, but his eyes were bright and his expression
sardonic.

"My compliments," he said, his voice tight with irony, "for a splendidly
futile job well done! You've got your cargo invoice?"

Joe nodded. Sanford held out his hand. Joe fumbled in his pocket and
brought out the yellow sheet.

"I'd like to introduce my crew," said Joe. "This is Haney, and Chief
Bender, and Mike Scandia." He waved his hand, and his whole body wobbled
unexpectedly.

"We'll know each other!" said Sanford sardonically. "Our first job is
more futility--to get the guided missiles you've brought us into the
launching tubes. A lot of good they'll do!"

A huge plate in the roof of the lock--but it was not up or down or in
any particular dire