of pure bliss. He was a tiny man, was Mike, but he had the longings and
the ambitions of half a dozen ordinary-sized men in his small body. And
he had known frustration. He could prove by mathematics that space
exploration could be carried on by midgets at a fraction of the cost and
risk of the same job done by normal-sized men. He was, of course, quite
right. The cabins and air and food supplies for a spaceship's crew of
midgets would cost and weigh a fraction of similar equipment for
six-footers. But people simply weren't interested in sending midgets
out into space.

But Mike had gotten here. He was in the Space Platform. There were
full-sized men who would joyfully have changed places with him,
forty-one inch height and all. So Mike was blissful.

The tube ended and Joe bounced off the wall that faced its end. Sanford
was waiting. He grinned with more than a hint of spite.

"Here's our communications room," he said. "Now you can talk down to
Earth. It'll be relayed, now, but in half an hour you can reach the Shed
direct."

He floated inside. Joe followed cautiously. There was another crew
member on duty there. He sat before a group of radar screens, with thigh
grips across his legs to hold him in his chair. He turned his head and
nodded cheerfully enough.

"Here!" snapped Sanford.

Joe clambered awkwardly to the seat the senior crew member pointed out.
He made his way to it by handholds on the walls. He fumbled into the