"I don't hear any leaks, but I'd still rather be down in an atmosphere," Heineman called from the cabin.

The machine abandoned the tuberider and spread its grapples wide as it drifted toward the V/STOL. Heineman came forward again, brushing between Carrolson and Farley.

"Shit," he said. It was the first time Lanier had ever heard him swear.

The machine's bulk obscured the windscreen and the plane twisted. Floating in the cockpit hatchway, Heineman did not roll with the craft. Lanier rotated around the startled engineer, then reversed. "Hang on before the next one," he shouted. Heineman grabbed for the pilot's seat with one hand. The airplane spun around again and, like a martial arts master, used Heineman's own mass to dislocate his shoulder.

The engineer screamed and let go, now rolling in the opposite direction of the cabin. Lanier watched helplessly, waiting for the motion to stop. When the lull stretched out to four seconds, he unbuckled and held Heineman around the waist, pushing him gently toward the rear. The engineer's face was a mask of pain; he opened his eyes wide like a child cruelly injured by a friend.

Carrolson and Farley had sustained bruises but no worse before grabbing handgrips. Farley held Heineman's head and Carrolson took his kicking feet while Lanier inspected the arm.

"Son of a bitch!" Heineman howled. "Leave it alone."

"The longer it's out, the longer it'll hurt," Lanier said. "I don't think anything's torn. Jesus, how do I reset in zero-g?"

"Here, brace your foot in one of these stanchions and we'll grab his torso," Carrolson said. Heineman squirmed, wild-eyed. His short hair stuck out in all directions. Lanier hitched one foot under a rung and pressed the other against Heineman's ribs. Carrolson and Farley tightened their hold on the engineer.

"Let me go," Heineman said weakly, his face slick with sweat and tears.

Lanier grabbed one arm and forearm and pulled, braced and twisted all at once. Heineman screamed again and rolled his eyes until only whites showed. There was a satisfying billiard-ball snick, and the arm was back in place. His head rolled limply and his mouth gaped. He had passed out.

"He'll never forgive us now," Carrolson said.

"Wrap the shoulder in a cold compress," Lanier instructed. He pushed his face against the side port again. The machine obscured the windscreen.

"Do not attempt to accelerate," the radio voice advised again. "Do not activate your drives. You are being taken to Axis Nader."

Farley helped Heineman into a seat. He lolled his head back to look at Carrolson, his face pasty. Carrolson inspected his eyes, prying the lids open with two fingers. "Shock," she said. She opened the first-aid pack and took out a prepackaged syringe, injecting it into his uninjured arm.

Lanier sat in the cockpit and tried to get whatever information he could from the instruments. The V/STOL was moving rapidly; that much and little else was apparent.