There was no nearby tree or other solid object around which to secure the line. So Chiang and MacAllister drove a couple of stakes into the ground. When they'd finished and gotten set up, Hutch took a deep breath, backed out over the rim, felt the emptiness beneath her, and smiled diffidently at Kellie.

Kellie gave her a thumbs-up.

She knew how the professionals did it, bracing their feet against the face of the rock and walking down. But she couldn't quite balance herself that well and instead simply dropped into a sitting position at the edge and eased herself over. "Okay, guys," she said. "Lower away."

They complied and she kept her eyes on the wall, which was earth-colored and rough and pebbly. Kellie was watching her and passing instructions and encouragement back and forth. "Okay, Hutch, you're doing fine."

"Hold it, she's got an abutment to deal with."

Trails of snow and pebbles broke loose and poured into the canyon.

There were no handholds. She realized belatedly that she should have looped the cable around her thighs instead of just connecting it to her belt and harness. It was dragging up on her, trying to pull her belt up under her vest. The Flickinger field did not provide sufficient resistance.

"You okay, Hutch?" Kellie asked.

"I'm fine. Keep going."

She maintained a stranglehold on the cable, gripping it so tightly that her muscles began to hurt. She told herself to relax, and checked cautiously to see where the lander was, trying to keep her eyes away from the abyss. Occasional clumps of snow and earth spilled down on her.

Kellie and Nightingale were both looking over the edge now, and she wished they'd be more careful. Last thing she needed would be to have one of them land in her lap, but when she complained, both seemed surprised.

"Just a little more," Kellie told the line handlers.

The lander was directly beneath her, and she reached down with her left foot, got nothing, wiggled around in the belt, tried again, and touched metal. She was delighted to discover that it did not drop lower as she eased her weight onto it. "Okay," she said. "I'm on board."

Safety line or not, she felt better kneeling rather than standing on the spacecraft. Despite its boxy appearance, the hull was adequately cycloid and aerodynamic. Wherever she touched it, it seemed to curve around away from her. She perched on the starboard side and gazed through the cabin windows. The door between the cargo hold and the cabin hung open. Two pieces of luggage had fallen out of the bins and lay against the downside bulkhead.

First things first: She worked her way to the communication pod, opened it, and removed as many of the parts as would come out. She also took the connectors and put everything in her vest.

The fuselage narrowed toward the tail. She moved cautiously in that direction, toward the capacitor compartments.

There was one on either side of the spacecraft, about halfway back. From her perspective, one faced up, the other down. She went after the easy one first. "Glory," she said, "can you hear me?"

"I hear you, Priscilla."

"Call me Hutch. And if you will, open the starboard compartment."

The panel popped open. The capacitor didn't look at all like the capacitors in her own lander. It was wide, silver and brown, and flattened. Hers was a dark blue box. She considered whether it would fit in Tess's compartment, and concluded it would not. But that needn't be a problem. If necessary, the installation could be done by putting them in the backseat and wiring them in.

"Glory," she said, "release the capacitor."

She heard a soft click. The unit came loose. "Okay, Kellie," she said, "send the other line down."

Kellie got it to her after several tries. Hutch tied it securely around the capacitor, knotted it, and looked up. Kellie waved.

Hutch put the assorted spare parts from the comm pod into a bag and attached it also to the line. "Okay," she said. "Take it up."

They began to pull. Hutch assisted, and the line lifted the capacitor out of its compartment and hauled it clear of the spacecraft. Kellie leaned out, trying to keep it away from the face of the cliff so it wouldn't get damaged. It swung back and forth while it rose, and then it disappeared over the crest. A moment later the line dropped back in her direction. She gathered it in.

She was just moving back into her crouch when the spacecraft dropped a few centimeters. It wasn't much, but her heart stopped. Everyone asked what had happened and whether she was okay. "Yes," she said, trying to sound composed. "Going below."

She slipped off the fuselage and dangled at the end of her line. "Lower away," she said. "Not too fast."

"Tell us when," said Kellie.

"A little more." She descended past the hull until she could see the port side. The down side.

"Glory," she said, "is the remaining capacitor secure in its compartment?"

"Yes, it is, Hutch."

"Open the compartment."

Pause. 7 can't, Hutch. It doesn't respond."

"Okay. I'm going to try it manually." She popped a panel, found the lever, and pulled on it. But it had too much give. "Not working," she said. "Kellie."

"Yes."

"There's a bar back in the tower. Have somebody get it for me."

Kellie kept talking to her, telling her that the capacitor looked good, that everything was under control, while somebody tracked the tool down. Finally, MacAllister broke in: "We've got it." And a minute later they were lowering the bar.

She caught it and went back to work.

The capacitor compartment was suspended over her head. She looked up at it and tried to insert the bar under the lip of the metal.

"Toward the top,"said Glory. "The problem's near the top."

It was difficult to work without a perch, to get any leverage on the bar when she had no place to plant her feet.

"How are you making out?" asked Chiang.

The bar was heavy. Her arms quickly got tired, and once she almost dropped it. The compartment door was jammed tight.

"Okay," she said.

She struggled on. Chiang said he thought it was taking too long and they should pull her up and let him try.

"He thinks," said Kellie, "we need more muscle down there."

"He's probably right." Hutch slid the bar into her vest and took a minute to rest her arms. Despite her boyish dimensions, she was, like all women, somewhat top-heavy, and she had to fight a tendency to turn turtle. "Let's stay with this a bit," she said. "If I can't get it, I'll be happy to give Chiang a shot."

Her vest was cutting off the blood in her armpits. She changed position, retrieved the tool, and tried again. She worked with increasing desperation and finally got the bar inside the compartment. She pulled down, pushed it in farther, and pulled again. Something gave, and the door popped open. The capacitor hung immediately overhead.

"I've got it," she said. She secured the bar to her belt, reached up into the compartment, felt around, and estimated she had a reasonable amount of clearance. She tied the line around the front and rear of the capacitor and secured it.

"Okay," she said. "Take up the slack. But not too tight."

They complied. She got out from under the compartment. "Glory," she said.

"Yes, Hutch?"

"Release the capacitor."

It dropped out of the compartment and swung back and forth in a long arc. But the line held, and her knots held. To her immense relief it did not fall to the bottom of the canyon.

After they'd recovered the second capacitor, she resisted the temptation to get out of the chasm and instead pushed up through the airlock into the spacecraft.

She salvaged as many reddimeals as she could, breakfasts, lunches, and dinners packed in self-heating containers. They weren't exactly food off the griddle, but for something to eat on the trail in an alien place, they were going to look pretty good. She picked up some coffee packs, found two bottles of wine, and some sandwiches and fruit from the refrigerator. The galley supplied unbreakable dishes, utensils, and mugs. She paused in front of the water tank. That was something they were going to need at the far end of the journey. She removed it, emptied it, folded it up, and put it in her vest.