Thirty minutes later Leo's heart eased as the first module bundle slid smoothly into place in the D-620's embrace. In a minor nightmare, undispelled by checking and rechecking his figures, he'd envisioned something Not Fitting, followed by endless delays for correction. The fact that they'd heard nothing from downside yet apart from repeated pleas for communication did not reassure him much. GalacTech management on Rodeo had to respond eventually, and there wasn't a thing he could do to counter that response until it shaped itself. Rodeo's apparent paralysis couldn't last much longer.

Meanwhile, it was half past breaktime. Maybe Dr. Minchenko could be persuaded to disgorge something for his throbbing head, to replace the eight hours of sleep he wasn't going to get. Leo punched up his work gang leaders' channel on his suit com.

"Bobbi, take over as foreman. I'm going Inside. Pramod, bring in your team as soon as that last strap is bolted down. Bobbi, be sure that second module bundle is tied in solid before you adjust and seal all the end airlocks, right?"

"Yes, Leo. I'm on it." Bobbi waved acknowledgment from the far end of the module bundle with a lower arm.

As Leo turned away, one of the one-man mini-pushers that had helped tug the module bundle into place detached itself and rotated, preparing to thrust away and help the next bundle already being aligned beyond the superjumper. One of its attitude jets puffed, then, even as Leo watched, emitted a sudden intense blue stream. Its rotation picked up speed.

That's uncontrolled! Leo thought, his eyes widening. In the bare moment it took him to call up the right channel on his suit com, the rotation became a spin. The pusher jetted off wildly, missing colliding with a work-suited quaddie by a scant meter. As Leo watched in horror it caromed off a nacelle on one of the superjumper's Necklin rod arms and tumbled into space beyond.

The com channel from the pusher emitted a wordless scream. Leo bounced channels. "Vatel!" he called the quaddie manning the nearest other little pusher. "Go after her!"

The second pusher rotated and sped past him; he saw the flash of one of Vatel's gloved hands visually acknowledging the order through the pusher's wide-angle front viewport. Leo restrained a heart-wrenching urge to jet after them himself. Damn little he could do in a power-depleted work suit. It was up to Vatel.

Had it been human—or quaddie—error, or a mechanical defect that had caused the accident? Well, he would be able to tell quickly enough once the pusher was retrieved. If the pusher was retrieved . . . He squelched that thought. Instead he jetted over to the Necklin rod nacelle.