"My compliments," he said, his voice tight with irony, "for a splendidly futile job well done! You've got your cargo invoice?"
Joe nodded. Sanford held out his hand. Joe fumbled in his pocket and brought out the yellow sheet.
"I'd like to introduce my crew," said Joe. "This is Haney, and Chief Bender, and Mike Scandia." He waved his hand, and his whole body wobbled unexpectedly.
"We'll know each other!" said Sanford sardonically. "Our first job is more futility—to get the guided missiles you've brought us into the launching tubes. A lot of good they'll do!"
A huge plate in the roof of the lock—but it was not up or down or in any particular direction—withdrew itself. A man floated through the opening and landed on the ship's hull; another man followed him.
"Chief," said Joe, "and Haney. Will you open the cargo doors?"
The two swaying figures moved to obey, though with erratic clumsiness. Sanford called sharply: "Don't touch the hull without gloves! If it isn't nearly red-hot from the sunlight, it'll be below zero from shadow!"
Joe realized, then, the temperature effects the skin on his face noticed. A part of the spaceship's hull gave off heat like that of a panel heating installation. Another part imparted a chill.
Sanford said unpleasantly, "You want to report your heroism, eh? Come along!"
He clanked to the doorway by which he had entered. Joe followed, and Mike after him.