Then another thought: how often had they done this already?
He paced through the room, up, down, up, down, up, down—
The door opened.
Hansen came in, while talking to another man. Both wore facemasks, gloves and clear plastic ponchos. The second man was someone whose stiff ISF-grey jacket had so many decorations that one needed sunglasses to look at him. This had to be Base Commander Banparra. He had the stocky build of someone who had grown up in space with the excess of physical training advocated by some bases. His skin was black as the sky outside, his head bald and shiny, and the shiny skin formed a couple of deep folds at the back of his neck.
Like a hippopotamus.
He leaned against the room’s closed door, arms crossed over his chest. A muscle twitched in his temple.
“Take off y
