"The steward clammed up.... The name would have been just noise to me, anyway."
"I might recognize the name...."
"Ask him yourself. The ship's still out at the field."
She shook her head slowly, holding her golden eyes on his face. "I do not care to attract the attention of either steward, sjambak—or Sultan."
Murphy said impatiently. "In any event, it's not who—but how. How does the man breathe? Vacuum sucks a man's lungs up out of his mouth, bursts his stomach, his ears...."
"We have excellent doctors," said Soek Panjoebang shuddering, "but alas! I am not one of them."
Murphy looked at her sharply. Her voice held the plangent sweetness of her instrument, with additional overtones of mockery. "There must be some kind of invisible dome around him, holding in air," said Murphy.
"And what if there is?"
"It's something new, and if it is, I want to find out about it."