"Now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?" he asked.
Docchi swiveled away from the instrument panel. "I don't expect active cooperation, of course, but I like to think you'll give your word not to hinder us hereafter."
Cameron glared. "I promise nothing of the kind."
"We can chain him to Anti," suggested Jordan. "That will keep him out of trouble."
"Like leading a poodle on a leash? Nope," said Anti indignantly. "A girl has to have some privacy."
"Don't wince, Cameron," objected Docchi. "She really was a girl once, an attractive one."
"We can put him in a spacesuit and lock his hands behind his back," said Jordan. "Something like an ancient straitjacket."
Cameron laughed.
"No, that's inhuman," said Docchi.
Jordan juggled the toaster. "I can weld with this. Let's put him in a cabin and weld the door closed. We can cut a slot to shove food in. A very narrow slot."
"Excellent. I think you have the solution. That is, unless Dr. Cameron will reconsider his decision."
Cameron shrugged. "They'll pick you up in a day or less anyway. I suppose I'm not compromising myself by agreeing to your terms."
"Good."
"A doctor's word is as good as his oath," observed Anti. "Hippocratic or hypocritic."
"Now, Anti, don't be cynical. Doctors have an economic sense as well as the next person," said Docchi gravely. He turned to Cameron. "You see, after Anti grew too massive for her skeletal structure, doctors reasoned she'd be most comfortable in the absence of gravity. That was in the early days, before successful ship gravital units were developed. They put her on an interplanetary ship and kept transferring her before each landing.
"But that grew troublesome and—expensive. They devised a new treatment; the asteroid and the tank of acid. Not being aquatic by nature, Anti resented the change. She still does."
"I knew nothing about that," Cameron pointed out defensively.
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