They manned the small taxi pod, shoved off carefully in the direction of the satellite. Falk brought them with a gingerly caution to the turret of the hub. They had to stop a few feet away because the turret was revolving, and to try to land the pod while the turret was in motion was useless. "Jump," said Dundon. Web gulped. Although he had no sense of gravity, he could not help but feel the absolute emptiness all around him and beneath him. Between him and the Earth, straight down, there was a thousand miles of nothing. But he rose in the taxi and braced himself. And jumped. He shot across space and crashed head on into the turret, came very close to cracking his helmet against the gray steel. He swore feebly, but sincerely and with great fright, and clutched for a hold. He had greatly overestimated the power he needed to cross a space in which there was no gravity at all. But he found a hold at last on a vane of the reflector and hung on grimly, desperately, for several moments. Dundon asked how he was. "Delightful," Web muttered, "absolutely delightful." Then he looked around for Falk. The taxi had been kicked quite some distance away, Falk, white-faced through his helmet, was bringing her slowly back in. "Easy when you jump, Joe," Web called. "I like to went right through this thing." Falk grunted. He slipped a rope on the pod and leaped for the turret. Even warned he came in too hard and Web had to grab at him, wildly, with one hand. But now the hard part was done and they were aboard. Web looked around for the airlock. * * * * * Web went in alone. There was no need for both of them inside so Falk waited by the airlock and fed him the radio line. As he spun the wheel which opened the lock and looked down the long tube into darkness he began to feel for the first time the perspiration soaking him. He took one last look at the whirling stars and then stepped inside the turret. In the turret there was no gravity, but as he climbed down the landing net toward the rim of the revolving doughnut centrifugal force caught into him and gave him weight. It was immensely reassuring. He had a small sealed light at his belt which enabled him to see his way around and at the base of the turret he came to the main door into the satellite. He stood on the net and regarded the door silently. Now, if there really was some sabotaging gent on board this thing, right behind this door now would be where he would be. He would have heard the boots clump on the steel, there was no doubt about that. And he would not be hampered by a space suit. Thoughtfully, Web considered the fact that he had no weapon. No weapon but his size. Up to now, this moment, that had always been enough, but he had no illusions about what would happen if there really was somebody alive in there. Still, Dundon would know, and that was his job after all, to let Dundon know. "Well," said Dundon anxiously.