He sat up straight on the bunk where Birek had laid him. "The tidal wave," he said, over a quick stab of fear. "What...."
"We ride it out," said Loris bitterly. "We always have."
MacVickers knew the Jovian Moons pretty well. Remembering the tremendous tides and winds caused by the gravitational pull of Jupiter, he shuddered. There was no solid earth on Io, nothing but mud. And the extraction plant, from the feel of it, was a hollow bell sunk under it, perfectly free.
It had to be free. No mooring cable made could stand the pull of a Jupiter-tide.
"One thing about it," said Pendleton with quiet viciousness. "It makes the bloody Jovies seasick."
Janu the Martian made a cracked, harsh laugh. "So they keep a weak current on us all the time." His hatchet-face was drawn, his yellow cat-eyes lambent in the dim light.
The men sprawled on their bunks, not talking much. Birek sat on the end of his, watching MacVickers with his pale still eyes. There was a tightness in the room.
It was coming. They were going to break him now, before he hurt them. Break him, or kill him.
MacVickers wiped the sweat from his face and said, "I'm thirsty."
Pendleton pointed to a thing like a horse-trough against the bulkhead. His eyes were tired and very sad. Loris was scowling at his stained and faintly filmed feet.