spacesuit. The lifeline reeled him toward the station.

A hairless, brown, deeply wrinkled face watched Henry from a small window beside an open airvalve. The cable pulled Henry to the muzzle of a rocket launcher. He jerked the magnetic head loose and shut himself into the valve. He slid the inner door open and, weakly kicking his legs, floated on his back into the sweeper.

An old man, the owner of the wrinkled face, stopped Henry from drifting into the far wall of the cramped compartment. The old man wore shorts and a sleeveless shirt, and his shrunken limbs seemed to have no muscles. He drew Henry down to the magnetized deck and removed the space helmet.

"You're just a boy!" the man wheezed in a cracked voice. "Where'd you come from, boy?"

Henry, watching through half-closed eyes, almost said that he was twenty years old. Then he remembered to mutter, "Water."

The old man said, "How'd you get out here? There's been no ships in days. What are you doing here all by yourself? I almost missed you. You'd been on a bad course if I had. Just happened to see your torch twirling around out there. Ain't many people can come that close with a life rocket and not hit a fellow. For a second, I thought the rocket was going to bust you. Of course, being skillful the way I am, it didn't seem likely, but I—"

"Water," Henry moaned.

"Water? Why sure. How long you been drifting, boy? Must be mighty thirsty. What's your name? I'm Ranjit. I've never got used to people not telling their last names. Of course, even when I was your age, most people called each other by their first names. I can't hardly remember what my last name is. You might not think it to look at me, but I'm 107 years old. Here, let's get you out of that suit and see what kind of shape you're in."

Horizontal and vertical wrinkles formed ragged crosshatching on Ranjit's forehead. His nose and ears were large and grotesque with age. He unsealed the spacesuit at the waist and, holding Henry against the deck with one hand, pulled off the top section.

"Water!" Henry gasped. Peeping secretly, he saw that the teletype, near the airvalve, was dismantled, with the parts tied in bunches floating over the empty case. He located the radio above an aluminum desk in the far corner. He could see no visular set anywhere.

Ranjit dragged off the 

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