"What's the excitement about?" rumbled Anti. "We don't need spacesuits unless something happens to the ship and we have to go outside." "Exactly, Anti. How do you suppose we go about replacing the defective tubes? From the outside, of course. By destroying the spacesuits, Cameron made sure we can't." Anti opened her mouth with surprise and closed it in anger. She glowered at the doctor. "We're still in the asteroid zone," said Cameron. "In itself, that's not dangerous. Without power to avoid stray rocks, it is. I advise you to contact the Medicouncil. They'll send a ship to pick us up and tow us in." "No, thanks. I don't like Handicap Haven as well as you do," Anti said brusquely. She turned to Docchi. "Maybe I'm stupid for asking, but exactly what is it that's deadly about being out in space without a spacesuit?" "Cold. Lack of air pressure. Lack of oxygen." "Is that all? Nothing else?" His laugh was too loud. "Isn't that enough?" "I wanted to be sure," she said. She beckoned to Nona, who was standing near. Together they went forward, where the spacesuits were kept. Cameron scowled puzzledly and started to follow. Jordan waved the toaster around. "All right," said the doctor, stopping. He rubbed his chin. "What is she thinking about?" "I wouldn't know," said Docchi. "She's not scientifically trained, if that's what you mean. But she has a good mind, as good as her body once was." "And how good was that?" "We don't talk about it," said Jordan shortly. * * * * * It was a long time before the women came back--if the weird creature that floated into the control compartment with Nona _was_ Anti. Cameron stared at her and saw shudderingly that it was. "You need a session with the psycho-computer," he said. "When we get back, that's the first thing we do. Can't you understand...." "Be quiet," growled Jordan. "Now, Anti, explain what you've rigged up." "Any kind of pressure is good enough as far as the outside of the body is concerned," answered Anti, flipping back the helmet. "Mechanical pressure will do as well as air pressure. I had Nona cut the spacesuits into strips and wind them around me--hard. Then I found a helmet that would fit over my head when the damaged part was cut away. It won't hold much air pressure, even taped very tight to my skin. But as long as it's pure oxygen--" "It might be satisfactory," admitted Docchi. "But the temperature?" "Do you think I'm going to worry about cold?" asked Anti. "Me? Way down below all this flesh?" "Listen to me," said Cameron through his teeth. "You've already seriously threatened my career with all this childish nonsense. I won't permit you to ruin it altogether by a deliberate suicide." "You and your stinking career," retorted Jordan tiredly. "We're not asking your permission to do anything." He turned away from the doctor. "You understand the risk, Anti? It's possible that it won't work at all."