Blair looked at him and grimaced, then motioned for Ricks to open his faceplate. Ricks reached up, switched off the radio, and removed his helmet. He managed a grin. "Kind of nice in here," he said. "Set up a bar, put a couple of chairs around, it could be real liveable." But he heard the tremor in his voice, and he knew that Blair heard it, too. Blair said, "Get on down by the elevator with Standish and Miller. If you hear another bell, a few notes lower than the first one, with a triple-beep in it, clap the helmet on. Otherwise, keep it off. You don't have canned air to waste." "Watch for the triple-beep," said Ricks jauntily. "Aye aye, sir." Blair grunted, and turned away, heading down the corridor in the opposite direction. Ricks watched him go, glaring at his back. 'I'm a better man than you, Harvey Ricks,' said that back. 'You'll break down, you'll flunk my course, you'll never match me or even come close.' Blair disappeared, through the bulkhead doorway to Section Three, and Ricks turned the other way, walking down the corridor and right to the elevator. Standish and Miller were standing there, helmets on but faceplates open, and Ricks felt somewhat better. _His_ helmet was in his hand. * * * * * As he came up to them, Standish said, "What do you suppose it is?" His pale face was even paler now, his large eyes larger. Ricks shrugged. "It's probably just a drill. Get us new boys all lathered up, just in case we weren't taking it all seriously." "I thought I felt a tremor just before the bell started," said Miller. "We may have been hit by a meteor or some such thing." Ricks shrugged again. "Whatever it was, it doesn't seem very urgent. Did Papa Blair tell you two about the triple-beep?" "Sure," said Miller. "He was sore at you, because you were late getting out in the hall." "I was running my suit-check," said Ricks easily. "Omigosh!" cried Standish. "I forgot!" He started the check, right then and there. Watching Standish run through his suit-check, Ricks felt a _lot_ better. _He_ hadn't forgotten. * * * * * Blair found Mendel at the sealed bulkhead between Sections Four and Five. Mendel waved to him and grinned sourly. "I thought you'd be along," he said. "What is it? The cargo section?" "Right through there, boy. Sorry. We've had a meteor strike. Son of a gun came at us on the blind side." Blair glanced quickly at the gauges beside the bulkhead door. "Pressure's up," he said. "Looks like it didn't break all the way through." "No way to tell yet," said Mendel. "It might be a slow leakage." "Then we have time to move the cargo." Mendel shook his head. "Sorry, Glenn, no can do. Open this door here, it might joggle the air pressure just enough to make a slow leak a fast one. If that happens, it won't be this door that slams shut, it'll be the one way over there, between Three and Four." "So you wait in Three. I'm willing to take the chance."