Then he
caught himself.
"Better change your metabolism back to Earth-normal, Captain Everts," he
said, and his voice was so normal that he hardly recognized it.
Everts' eyes widened briefly. The man bowed faintly. "Thank you, Dr.
Feldman."
It was ridiculous, impossible, and yet there was a curious relief at the
formality of it. It was like something from a play, too unreal to affect
his life.
Everts nodded to the man holding the helmet. Doc dropped his bracky weed
and felt the helmet snap down. A hiss of oxygen reached him and the suit
ballooned out. There was no gravity; the two men handed him up easily to
the one in the airlock while the inner seal began to close.
There was still ten seconds to go, according to the big chronometer that
had been installed in the lock. The spaceman used it in tying the sack
of possessions firmly to Doc's suit.
A red light went on. The man caught Doc and held him against the outer
seal. The red light blinked. Four seconds ... three ... two....
There was a sudden heavy thudding sound, and the _Iroquois_ seemed to
jerk sideways slightly. The spaceman's face swung around in surprise.
The red light blinked and stayed on. Zero!
The outer seal snapped open and the spaceman heaved. Air exploded
outwards, and Doc went with it. He was alone in space, gliding away from
the ship, with oxygen hissing softly through the valve and ticking away
his life.
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