by H. B. Fyfe
stuffed the trio into them, either unconsciousor at gunpoint.
"Then, having fastened the ankles together and wired the wrists to thethighs so they couldn't move at all, I launched them one at a timewith enough pressure in the air lock to give four-hour orbits. Thatgave me sleeping time."
"And what about them?" asked the captain.
"Oh, at the end of that period, they'd come drifting in at one-hourintervals. Counting all the necessary operations, each of them gotthirty minutes actually out of the suit to eat and so on. Then outhe'd go while I fished in the next one. They didn't like it, but theyweren't so tough one at a time."
"Let's see--" mused the captain. "Every four hours, you'd have tospend ... why, only two hours processing them. As a result, you keptcomplete control and came shooting in here with your own satellitesystem revolving about you."
"And your friends? How have they been passing the time?"
"Well, either figuring out how to take me next time," guessed Tremont,"or wishing they were moving in more honest circles!"
END
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