the back of the chair, his arms in a highly strained position to hold
him there, and his feet touching the deck of the cabin a good five feet
away.

Haney looked greenish, but he said hoarsely:

"Joe, don't make me laugh--not when my stomach feels like this!"

The feeling of weightlessness was unexpectedly daunting. Joe turned
himself about very slowly, with his legs floating indecorously in
entirely unintended kicks. He was breathing hard when he pulled himself
into the chair and strapped in once more.

"I'll take Communications," he told Mike as he settled his headphones.

Reluctantly, Mike switched over.

"Kenmore reporting to Communications," he said briefly. "We have ended
our take-off acceleration. You have our course and velocity. Our
instruments read--"

He went over the bank of instruments before him, giving the indication
of each. In a sense, this first trip of a ship out to the Platform had
some of the aspects of defusing a bomb. Calculations were useful, but
observations were necessary. He had to report every detail of the
condition of his ship and every instrument-reading because anything
might go wrong, and at any instant. Anything that went wrong could be
fatal. So every bit of data and every intended action needed to be on
record. Then, if something happened, the next ship to attempt this
journey might avoid the same catastrophe.