"Quite ... fine ... thank ... you," he answered with difficulty. "Haven't we met somewhere?"
"Sure! Last week, Mr. Winstead, when we took you to Topaz IV," said the face.
Winstead tried shaking his head. It did not hurt—very much—but he felt that his thinking was terribly slow. Then things began to click. He recognized the man as the second pilot of the Stellar Queen. It might have been easier had the spacer not been standing upside down to Winstead's twisted position.
He groped dizzily for a question that would not make him sound a complete idiot. The pilot saved him.
"Callahan, back on Topaz IV," he volunteered, "asked us to tell you the best routing he could figure was to go on with us to Queen Bess III. It's a busy spaceport, so he thinks you can make better connections."
"Oh. I ... see," murmured Winstead.
Unzipping the opening of his net, he floated himself out gingerly.
"I hope it's all right, Mr. Winstead," said the spacer. "I know you went in there on an Altair IV destination, but old Callahan seemed to think he was sending you to Fomalhaut VIII. To tell the truth, I think he was a little over-fueled."
"I ... didn't notice," said Winstead. "Tell me—how long were you down at Topaz?"
"Three days," the spacer told him. "They sure took a liking to you there, Mr. Winstead. A big crowd brought you out to the spaceport with Callahan. We found your bag under his desk by ourselves, but I don't know where you got that orange suit."