THE SWAMP WAS UPSIDE DOWN

I

Hardwick knew the Survey ship had turned end-for-end, because thoughthere was artificial gravity, it does not affect the semicircularcanals of the human ear. He knew he was turning head-over-heels,even though his feet stayed firmly on the floor. It was not a normalsensation, and he felt that queasy, instinctive tightening of themuscles with which one reacts to the abnormal, whether in things seenor felt.

But the reason for turning the ship end-for-end was obvious. It hadarrived very near its destination, and was killing its Lawlor-drivemomentum. Just as Hardwick was assured that the turning motion wasfinished, young Barnes—the ship's lowest-ranking commissionedofficer—came into the wardroom and beamed at him kindly.

"The ship's not landing, sir," he said gently, like one explainingsomething to somebody under ten years old. "Our orders are changed.You're to go to ground by boat. This way, sir."

Hardwick shrugged. He was a Senior Officer of the Colonial Survey, andthis was a Survey ship, and it had been sent especially to get himfrom his last and still unfinished job. It was a top-urgency matter.This ship had had no other business for some months except to go afterand bring him to Sector Headquarters, down on Canna III which must besomewhere near. But this young officer was patronizing him!

Hardwick rather regretfully recognized that he didn't know how to beimpressive. He was not a good salesman of his own importance. He didn'teven get the urgent respect due his rank—and when one thought aboutit, it was amazing that he'd ever reached a high level in the Survey.

Now the young officer waited, brisk and kindly and blandly alert inmanner. Hardwick reflected wryly that he could pin young Barnes' earsback easily enough. But he remembered when he'd been a junior Surveyship's officer. Then he'd felt a serene condescension toward all peopleof whatever rank who did not spend their lives in the cramped, skimpedquarters of a Survey patrol-ship. If this young Lieutenant Barnes werefortunate, he'd always feel that way. Hardwick could not begrudge himthe cockiness which made the tedium and hardships of the Service seemto him a privilege.

So he quite obediently followed Barnes through the wardroom door. Heducked his head under a ventilation slot and sidled past a standpipewith bristling air-valve handles. It almost closed the way. There wasthe smell of oil and paint and ozone which all proper Survey shipsmaintain in their working sections.

"Here, sir," said Barnes paternally. "This way."

He offered his arm for Hardwick to steady himself by. Hardwick ignoredit. He stepped over a complex of white-painted pipes. He arrived at analmost clear way to a boat-blister.

"And your luggage, sir," added the young man reassuringly, "will followyou down immediately, sir. With the mail."

Hardwick nodded. He moved toward the blister door. He practicallyedged past constrictions due to new equipment. The Survey ship had beendesigned a long time ago, and there were no funds for rebuilding whenimproved devices came along. So any Survey ship was apt to be clutteredup with afterthoughts in metal.

A speaker from the wall said sharply:

"Hear this! Hold fast!