ring
sluggishly after his emergence. He pushed them a bit more, distributing
them as much as possible without losing them altogether.

Johnny tore open the big bag and was instantly enveloped in clinging
folds of ribbon released from the pressure of its packing. He knew what
it was now, the big string of ribbon chutes for the Venus Expedition,
intended for dropping a remote controlled mobile observer to the as yet
unseen and unknown surface. Johnny had ferried parts of the crab-like
mechanical monster on the last run, and illogically found himself
worrying momentarily over the set-back to the Probe his mischance would
cause.

But in the next minute he was making fast the lower end of the string to
the WD cylinder, then, finding the top chute he toed his pedals and
jetted himself out, trailing the string out to its full extent.

Now the period of action was over and he had done all he could, Johnny
found himself dreading the time of waiting to follow. He would have time
for thinking, and thinking wasn't profitable under the circumstances
unless it were something definitely constructive and applicable to his
present and future well-being. Waiting was always bad.

Surely they would find him soon. Surely they would press the search
farther even when they found Able Jake as they couldn't fail to in time.

A tightness started in his throat. Johnny quickly drowned the thought in
a flood of inconsequential nonsense, a trick he had learned as a green
pilot. He might sleep though, if sleep were a possible thing in this
cold emptiness. No one, to his recollection, had ever done so outside a
ship or station--the space psychology types would be interested
doubtless.

* * * * *

Johnny tied his life line to the WD cylinder and then jetted clear of
his artificial cloud, positioning himself so that it formed a partial
screen between himself and the sun. He turned his oxygen down to the
bare minimum and the thermostat as low as he dared. He commenced a
relaxation exercise and was pleased when it worked after a fashion--a
mental note for Beaufort at the station. A drowsiness crept over him,
dulling a little the thin edge of fear that probed his consciousness.

Face down towards the earth he hung. The slow noise of his breathing
only intensified the complete silence outside. The well padded suit
encompassed him so gently there was no sense of pressure on his body to
make up for the weightlessness. J