Free Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold

rolled onto her palms, tested her balance. Her right lower arm seemed to be the one she could most easily spare. She scooped Andy back up one-handed and held him under her torso.
    Plastered against the planet-ward side of the cargo bay by the dreadful gravity, she began a three-handed crawl toward the door. Andy's weight pulled at her arm as though a strong spring were drawing him to the floor, and his head bobbed backwards at an alarming angle. Claire inched her palm up under his head to support it, painfully awkward for her arm.
    Beside her, Tony too achieved a three-handed stance. With his free hand he jerked the cord to their pack of supplies. The pack, stuck to the downside surface as if by suction, didn't budge.
    Shit, Tony swore under his breath. He swarmed over the pack, gripped and lifted it, but it was too bulky to carry under his belly. Double-shit.
    Can we give up yet? Claire asked in a tiny voice, knowing the answer.
    No!He grabbed the pack backwards over both shoulders with his upper hands and rocked forward violently. It came up and balanced precariously on his back. He kept his left upper hand on it to steady it and hopped forward on his right, his lower palms shuffling along under his hips. I got it, go, go!
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    The shuttle was parked in a cavernous hangar, a vast dim gulf of space roofed by girders. The girders behind the overhead lights would have been an excellent hiding place, if only one could swoop up there.
    But everything not rigidly fastened was doomed to fly to the one side of the room only, and stick there until forcibly removed. There was a lopsided fascination to it. ...
    Oh... Claire hesitated. Leading from the hatch to the hangar floor was a kind of corrugated ramp.
    Clearly, it was designed to break down the dangerous fight with the omnipresent gravity into little manageable increments. Stairs.Claire paused, head down. Her blood seemed to pool dizzyingly in her face. She gulped.
    Don't stop, Tony gasped pleadingly behind her, then gulped himself.
    Uh... uh... In a moment of inspiration, Claire turned around and began to back down, her free lower palm slapping the metal treads with each hop. It was still uncomfortable, but at least possible. Tony followed.
    Where now? Claire panted when they reached the bottom.
    Tony pointed with his chin. Hide in that jumble of equipment over there, for now. We daren't get too far from the shuttles.
    They scuttled along over the downside surface of the hangar. Claire's hands quickly became smudged with oil and dirt, a psychological irritation as fierce as an unscratchable itch; she felt she might gladly risk death for a chance to wash them. Claire remembered watching beads of condensed humidity creeping by capillarity across surfaces in the Habitat, until she'd smeared them to oblivion with her dry-rag, just as she and Tony crept now.
    As they reached the area where some pieces of heavy equipment were parked, a loader rolled into the hangar and a dozen coveralled men and women jumped off it and began swarming over the shuttle, organized confusion. Claire was glad for their noise, for Andy was still emitting an occasional whimper.
    Fearfully, she watched the maintenance crew through the metal arms of the machinery. How late was too late to surrender?
    Leo, half suited-up in the equipment locker, glanced up anxiously as Pramod swooped across the room to fetch up gracefully beside him.
    Did you find Tony? Leo asked. As gang foreman,he's supposed to be leading this parade. I'm only supposed to be watching.
    Pramod shook his head. He's not in any of the usual places, sir.
    Leo hissed under his breath,not quite swearing. He should've answered his page by now... He drifted to the plexiport.
    Outside in the vacuum, a small pusher was just depositing the last of the sections for the shell of the new hydroponics bay in their carefully arranged constellation. It was to be built before the Operations Vice President's eyes by the quaddies. So much for Leo's faint