"All well here," said Anderson after a glance at the board. "And no shorts showing."
There was a silence punctuated by the soft, useless clicking of the control as Hoskins manipulated it. "Well, what do you know."
"It won't work," said Johnny plaintively.
"Sure it'll work," said Paresi swiftly, confidently. "Take it easy, Johnny."
"It won't work," said Johnny. "It won't work." He stumbled across the cabin and leaned against the opposite bulkhead, staring at the closed port with his head a little to one side as if he expected it to shriek at him.
"Let me try," said Ives, going to Hoskins. He put out his hand.
"Don't!" Johnny cried.
"Shut up, Johnny," said Paresi.
"All right, Nick," said Johnny. He opened his face plate, went to the rear bulkhead, keyed open an acceleration couch, and lay face down on it. Paresi watched him, his lips pursed.
"Can't say I blame him," said the Captain softly, catching Paresi's eye. "It's something of a shock. This shouldn't be. The safety factor's too great—a thousand per cent or better."