Jordan juggled the toaster. "I can use this to weld with. Let's put him in a cabin and close the door, permanently. I'll cut a slot to shove food in—a very narrow slot."
"Excellent. That's the solution. Cameron, do you want to reconsider your decision?"
Cameron shrugged blithely. "They'll pick you up in a day or less anyway. I'm not compromising myself if I agree."
"It's good enough for me," declared Anti. "A doctor's word is as good as his oath—Hippocratic or hypocritic."
"Don't be cynical, Anti. Doctors have an economic sense as well as the next person," said Docchi. He turned to Cameron. "You see, after Anti grew too massive for her skeletal structure, doctors reasoned she'd be most comfortable in the absence of gravity. That was in the early days, before successful ship gravity units were developed. They put her on an interplanetary ship and kept transferring her before each landing.
"But the treatment was troublesome—and expensive. So they devised a new method—the asteroid and the tank of acid. Not being aquatic by nature, Anti resented the change. She still does."
"Don't blame me for that," said Cameron. "I wasn't responsible."
"It was before your time," agreed Docchi. He frowned speculatively at the doctor. "I noticed it at the time but I had other things to think about. Tell me, why did you laugh when Jordan mentioned spacesuits?"
Cameron grinned broadly. "That was my project while you were busy with the robot."
"To do what? Jordan——"