r, locked onto the other
balloon as it drifted close. Energy poured into their drive fields.
Spiraling downward, transparent globe and four laboring spacecraft
vanished behind the horizon. The _Pallas_ completed her own task,
disengaged her towbars, and dropped from view, headed for the dock.

The second balloon rose again, like a huge glass moon on the opposite
side of the Sword. Still it grew in Ellen's eyes, kilometer by
kilometer of approach. So much mass wasn't easily handled, but the
braking curve looked disdainfully smooth. Presently she could make out
the scoopships in detail, elongated teardrops with the intake gates
yawning in the blunt forward end, cockpit canopies raised very
slightly above.

Instructions rattled from the men in the dome. The balloon veered
clumsily toward the one free receptor. A derricklike structure
released one end of a cable, which streamed skyward. Things that Ellen
couldn't quite follow in this tricky light were done by the four tugs,
mechanisms of their own extended to make their tow fast to the cable.

They did not cast loose at once, but continued to drag a little,
easing the impact of centrifugal force. Nonetheless a slight shudder
went through the dome as slack was taken up. Then the job was over.
The scoopships let go and flitted off to join their mother vessel. The
balloon was winched inward. Spacesuited men moved close, preparing to
couple valves together.

"And eventually," Blades said into the abrupt quietness, "that cargo
will become food, fabric, vitryl, plastiboard, reagents, fuels, a
hundred different things. That's what we're here for."

"I've never seen anything so wonderful," Ellen said raptly. He laid an
arm around her waist.

The intercom chose that precise moment to blare: "Attention!
Emergency! All hands to emergency stations! Blades, get to Chung's
office on the double! All hands to emergency stations!"

Blades was running before the siren had begun to howl.

Rear Admiral Barclay Hulse had come in person. He stood as if on
parade, towering over Chung. The asterite was red with fury. Avis Page
crouched in a corner, her eyes terrified.

Blades barreled through the doorway and stopped hardly short of a
collision. "What's the matter?" he puffed.

"Plenty!" Chung snarled. "These incredible thumble-fumbed oafs--" His
voice broke. _When he gets mad, it means something!_

Hulse nailed Blades with a glance. "Good day, sir," he clipped. "I
have had to report