on Asteroid Eighty was a bumpy one. Claude Kelvin, in the first of the lifeboats, shepherded his equipment like a cackling mother hen over a brood of chicks. He spent the trip dashing back and forth along the slim craft from the helmsman to his gear, and back again, constantly admonishing that space veteran to take it a little easier, to watch where he was going, and to remember that the Kelvin equipment was delicate stuff.
At length, however, both the lifeboats moored safely at the tiny aluminoid space landing platform that stretched circularly around the squat duralloy rayhouse.
On the platform, waiting eagerly for them, was a space-helmeted figure of surprisingly small stature. His radiphone was tuned to theirs as they stepped from the lifeboats.
"Glad to see yuh," the voice boomed. And Kelvin blinked to think that such a small man could have a voice so deep. "Where's my new bunk mate?"
Sub-lieutenant MacQuales had stepped over beside Claude Kelvin, and the two of them advanced toward the short fellow. "Ahoy, Grimes," MacQuales bellowed cheerfully. "Glad you're still alive."
And interplanetary officer Grimes, face wreathed in a huge grin, stepped up to them, hand extended.
"This is Claude Kelvin," MacQuales said. "Kelvin, officer Grimes. I hope you to hit it off well, for you'll certainly see enough of one another."
Claude extended his hand, looking down on the short, rugged, little Grimes.
"I'm sure we'll get along well," he said. "And I hope I won't be in officer Grimes', ah, hair."
Grimes was as bald as a doorknob. A fact the red-faced Claude Kelvin didn't realize until he'd finished his remark.
"Joker, eh?" Grimes looked up unsmilingly into Claude's face.
MacQuales was spluttering redly, forcing back his giggles.
And then Grimes turned, motioning toward the square, airlock door at the front of the rayhouse.
"Come on," he said. "Join me in a drink before you go, MacQuales."
They followed Grimes up the landing as the space stevedores went on with the unloading behind them. Minutes later they removed their helmets as they stepped out of the final airlock into the comfortable and compact quarters of the rayhouse.
"Well, what do you think of it?" Grimes asked Claude, waving a hand at his quarters.
"Very nice. Very nice indeed," said Claude, "but—"
"But what?" Grimes frowned.
"Will there be any room for me to set up a laboratory?"
"There's a sort of cellar below," Grimes said. "You should have plenty of room there."
BY now the three had climbed from their space gear, and Grimes was rummaging around in a duralloy compartment, bringing out three glasses and a spiraled bottle.
"Venusian stuff," Grimes said, holding the bottle high as he brought it back to a table with the glasses.
"Good," MacQuales observed a few minutes later, smacking his lips and holding out his glass for a refill.
"Damned right it is," Grimes retorted. "If those krickaks knew I had this in stock they'd have been raiding the rayhouse every night."
Claude's ear pricked up with sudden interest.
"The krickaks like liquor?" he asked.
