"Four of the area supervisors are locked in the vegetable cooler with breath masks and won't come out," reported Sinda from Nutrition.

"And the three crewmen from the shuttle that just docked tried to make it back to their ship," said a yellow-shirted quaddie from Docks & Locks. "We trapped them between two airseal doors, but they've been working on the mechanism and we don't think we can hold them much longer."

"Mr. Wyzak and two of the life-support systems supervisors are, um, tied up in Central Systems. To the wall hand grips," reported another quaddie in yellow, adding nervously, "Mr. Wyzak sure is mad."

"Three of the crèche mothers refused to leave their kids," said an older quaddie girl in pink. "They're all still in the gym with the rest of the little ones. They're pretty upset. Nobody's told them what's going on yet, at least not when I'd left."

"And, um, there's one other person," added red-clad Bobbi from Leo's own welding and joining work gang in a faint tone. "We're not quite sure what to do about him . . ."

"Immobilize him, to start," began Leo wearily. "We'll just have to arrange a life pod to take the stragglers."

"That may not be so easy," said Bobbi.

"You outnumber him, take ten—take twenty—you can be as careful as you like—is he armed?"

"Not exactly," admitted Bobbi, seeming to find her lower fingernails objects of new fascination. The quaddie equivalent of foot-shuffling, Leo realized.

"Graf!" boomed an authoritative voice, as the airseals at the end of the work-suit locker room slid open. Dr. Minchenko launched himself across the module to thump to a halt beside Leo, and gave the locker an extra bang with his fist for emphasis. One could not, after all, stomp in free fall. The unused breath mask trailing from his hand bounced and quivered. "What the hell is going on here? There's no bleeding pressurization emergency—" He inhaled vigorously, as if to prove his point.

The quaddie girl Kara in the white T-shirt and shorts of Medical trailed him, looking mortified. "Sorry, Leo," she apologized. "I couldn't get him to go."

"Am I to run off to some closet while all my quaddies asphyxiate?" Minchenko demanded indignantly of her. "What do you take me for, girl?"

"Most everybody else did," she offered hesitantly.

"Cowards—scoundrels—idiots," he sputtered.

"They followed their computerized emergency instructions," said Leo. "Why didn't you?"

Minchenko glared at him. "Because the whole thing stank. A Habitat-wide pressurization loss should be almost impossible. A whole chain of interlocking accidents would have to occur."

"Such chains do occur, though," said Leo, speaking from wide experience. "They're practically my specialty."