Mendel leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. "You know," he said, "when I was a kid, all I ever wanted was to get out here in space. I grew up reading about Moon-shots and orbiting satellites and I thought, 'By Golly, there's the frontier of tomorrow. There's where the adventurers are going to be, the explorers and the prospectors and the soldiers of fortune. That's the place for me, boy.' Romance and adventure, that's the way I saw it." He grinned and shook his head. "I forgot all about the twentieth century's most significant invention: Red tape. It never even occurred to me that space would be a job like this. Paperwork all over the place, schedules to meet and financial reports to make out, young fuzzy-faced kids to be nursemaided. It never even occurred to me." "If you hate it so much," Blair told him, "why not go on back to Earth?" "Are you kidding? Do you know what I weigh down there? Two hundred and fourteen pounds. Maybe more by now, I'm not sure. Besides, it's even worse down there. Paperwork up to your nose. It's only half that high up here. If you know what I mean." "I know what you mean. Lighter gone?" "Long gone. Halfway back to Earth by now. Left while you were with your Boy Scouts." "So we're on our way again." Blair got lazily to his feet, and stretched. "After a couple days on Earth," he said, "quarter-G feels like a good quiet drunk. Think I'll go lie down in the rack and think about philosophy. See you later." "Right. Hey, by the way." Blair turned at the door. "By what way?" "This is your last round trip, isn't it? Your two years are up." "It was up last trip. I re-contracted." Mendel grinned. "Member of the club now, huh? I thought you'd do that. Welcome aboard." Blair shrugged self-consciously. "You know how it is," he said. "Every time I go back, Earth gets a little heavier. Besides, I like the soft life." "You want it _really_ soft," Mendel told him, "you put in for station duty. All we do is float around and around, draw our pay, and look at the pretty scenery." "If that boy Ricks blows up," Blair said, "we'll _both_ have plenty to do. I'm going to rack out, I'll see you later." "See you, nursemaid." Blair took the elevator down to the outer ring, and went to his cubicle in Section Two, next to the one occupied by Ricks, across the corridor from Standish and Miller. He stretched out on his bed and half-dozed, as his body gradually got reoriented to quarter-gravity. Twenty minutes later, the meteor hit. * * * * * It should never have happened. The Station had full radar vision, and so the meteor should have been seen long before it struck. The Station was powered, and should have been able to goose itself out of the meteor's path. So it should never have happened. But it did.