The fat needle nosed into place, the ports clanged and hissed as the suction junction was made. Abruptly, the scene shifted and we were inside the lock between the two ships. Men in stained dungarees, stripped to the waist and sweating, were hauling heavy canvas-wrapped equipment into the mother ship. To one side two elderly guys were talking swiftly:
"You had difficulty?"
"More than ever. Thank God this is the last shipment."
"How about credits?"
"Exhausted."
"Do you mean that?"
"I do."
"I can't understand it. We had over two millions left."