Farley turned toward Hoffman. "We reached a decision last night—Hua Ling and the rest of us, all the Chinese. It wasn't to be announced until this evening, but nobody will object if I tell you now. We are with the Western bloc. The Soviet science team made some overtures, but we decided to support you. I think the Soviet scientists wish they could follow our lead. But I just wanted you to know, before we left."

"Thank you," Hoffman said, gripping Farley's glove. "We'll be curious. No need to tell you that. Learn all you can. There's a few hundred or more of us who wish we could go along."

"That's why I volunteered first," Carrolson said.

"Time's a-wastin'," Heineman drawled. "All abroad."

"Shut up and let us be sentimental," Carrolson scolded him.

"Everything will be fine," Hoffman told Lanier as they hugged again and held each other back to peer through faceplates.

"Let's go," Lanier said. They hooked their safety lines to a long pole stretched out near the aircraft and kicked away one by one to enter the hatch. Two people fit into the airlock; they cycled twice, Lanier waiting until last. With the hatch sealed and air pressure restored, he removed his suit and folded it into the compartment beneath the airlock controls.

With only four passengers, the aircraft interior was spacious. The forward part of the cabin was filled with boxes of scientific equipment; Carrolson and Farley checked them out before strapping in Lanier joined Heineman in the cockpit.

"All fuel and oxygen cables clear," Heineman said, checking the instruments. "I've run the diagnostics on the tuberider. Everything's go."

He looked expectantly at Lanier.

"Then go," Lanier said.

Heineman swung out the pylon which held the tuberider controls and locked it before him. "Hang on," he said. Then, over the intercom, "Ladies, barf bags are in the pouches of the seat in front of you. Not suggesting, you understand."

He depressed the clamp controls. Slowly, smoothly, the tuberider began to slide along the slender silver pipe of the singularity. "A little more," he said. Lanier felt himself pressed back into his seat. "And a little more still."

They were heavy now, lying on their backs in a cockpit and cabin suddenly upended. "Last bit," Heineman said, and they effectively weighed half again more than they would have on Earth. "There's a rope ladder I'll unroll down the aisle, just in case anybody has to go to the bathroom." He grinned at Lanier. "I don't recommend the lavatory in these conditions. We didn't get enough specs to design for comfort. I'll let up on the clamps if anyone gets desperate."

"Count on it," Carrolson said from the cabin.

Lanier watched the corridor moving slowly, majestically around them. Through the windscreen, the floor of the corridor merged in the distance with the pearly central glow of the plasma tube. . . stretching perhaps forever.