The patch job finished, Blair came back out in much the same manner as he had gone in. Ricks, a little ways to the left, was still maneuvering the replacement panel back and forth, though his arms seemed to be sagging somewhat by now. Blair said, "Okay, Ricks, bring it in."
"Anything you say, Admiral."
Blair helped him ease the panel down close enough for each of them to grab an edge. They released the cable clips, and Blair one-handed bunched the cable together until he could slip it back onto the catch on his suit. Together, they turned the panel around and held it flat. On Earth, this reinforced thickness of hull would have weighed nearly two hundred pounds. Here, it seemed to weigh less than nothing, since the only force on it was trying to push it up, away from the Station.
They carried the panel over to the hole made for it, and Blair said, "Lower it easy. It should be a snug fit, flush with the rest of the hull. If we set it in flat, we won't have any trouble."
"No trouble at all, Commander."
"Don't play the smart-aleck!"
Surprisingly, Ricks' answer was subdued: "All right. What do we do now?"
"Lower it. Don't hold it on the edge, hold your hands flat on the top, like this. There's no danger of it falling."
Ricks laughed nervously. "It's like a table-raising at a seance."
They stood on opposite sides of the hole, the panel flat between them, their arms out over it, gloved hands pressing it slowly down. The fixer reep rolled gently in toward them, and Wiley said, "Let me know when you're ready, Glenn."