"... SQ check one ... speed five-three thousand one two oh, acceleration two point one, steady ... trajectory minus two point oh five seconds at eight thousand two hundred, three hundred, four, five, compensate please ... plus point oh three seconds at nine thousand, seven, eight, nine, compensate please ... SQ at stand-by, over." "Three-dimensional plot-check, sir. Reconciled, and steady as she blasts...." "SQ to control, SQ check one, trajectory secure. Out." He fumbled with the wide straps across his chest and hips, and his arms were awkward as though he had lost at least half of his co-ordination. He could taste blood at the corners of his mouth, but it was already caking to his flesh. "Old Man had a tough time this trip, sir...." "Yes. When they're desk passengers for six months running and then try to get aboard a space-deck they find it isn't as easy as when they wore an ack harness every day. The price of being eager, sergeant." "Yes, sir. He ought to be coming out of it soon." "We'll be locked tight on the curve when he does. Off a half-second and he'll holler like a Conservative--especially after final compensation. How close did we come to the C-limit this time, anyway?" "Had almost a minute to spare, sir." "Nicely done, sergea--I think I hear him trying to get the deck under him. Better get over to the trackers." The words Doug heard still weren't making sense, but he was on his feet and had his balance. He had slid oddly down to the metal deck from the bulkhead on which the hammock was built, and he had the peculiar feeling that up was no longer up, nor down exactly where it was supposed to be. His body did not feel as though it were all of lead as he'd half-expected, although it didn't feel its usual hundred and sixty pounds, either. He was still focusing his eyes when they saw the weird blur of color on the bulkhead above the crewman's head. Teleview screen of course--and the middle blur--Earth. In moments he was able to see it plainly as it receded--a tan and blue mass dotted with white, shadowed to the shape of a football, hanging in what seemed direct contradiction to all the laws of physics in a great, black void. For minutes he stood without moving, oblivious to the immaculately polished masterpiece of engineering which surrounded him.