art in itself. Two men could move tons. It needed only one man to start
a massive crate in motion. However, one had either to lift or push an
object in the exact line it was to follow. To thrust hard for a short
time produced exactly the same effect as to push gently for a longer
period. Anything floated tranquilly in the line along which it was
moved. The man who had to stop it, though, needed to use exactly as much
energy as the man who sent it floating. He needed to check the floating
thing in exactly the same line. If one tried to stop a massive shipment
from one side, he would topple into it and he and the crate together
would go floundering helplessly over each other.

The Chief had gone off to help maneuver two-ton guided missiles into
launching tubes. One crew member remained with Haney, unloading things
that would have had to be handled with cranes on Earth. Joe found
himself needed most in the storage chamber. A crate floated from the
ship to the crewman. Standing head downward, he stopped its original
movement, braced himself, and sent it floating to Joe. He braced
himself, stopped its flight, and very slowly--to move fast with anything
heavy in his hands would pull his feet from the floor--set it on a stack
of similar objects which would presently be fastened in place.

Everything had to be done in slow motion, or one would lose his footing.
Joe worked painstakingly. He gradually began to understand the process.
But the muscles of his stomach ached because of their continuous,
instinctive cramp due to the sensation of unending fall.

Mike floated through the hatchway from the lock. He twisted about as he
floated, and his magnetized soles clanked to a deft contact with the
wall. He said calmly: "That guy Sanford has cracked up. He's potty. If
this were jail he'd be stir-crazy. He's yelling into the communicator