Free The Ophiuchi Hotline by John Varley Page B

bellows action that forced nearly pure carbon dioxide from the exhaust valve under her collarbone. There were ancillary systems, such as the binaural radio which she could work by subvocalizing in her throat.
    She began to feel better. Below her, about five meters down, was the surface, which was a dirty gray color. Some attempt had been made to level it in places, especially the area around the
Earthhome
’s berth. A network of silver ropes stretched between metal supports. It was Poseidon’s equivalent of a road system.
    Stepping out of the lock had seemed like a good idea, but after a few seconds Lilo saw her mistake. On the way down she had time to calculate the acceleration of gravity, which she found to be almost one centimeter per second squared, or six thousandths of a Lunar gravity. She landed—too hard, with too much reaction—and had time for more calculations as she drifted down again, a little frightened this time. But the escape velocity was quite a bit higher than her legs could deliver. The gravity well was three hundred thirty meters deep, under standard Lunar conditions.
    When she approached the surface again she was more careful. She grabbed a rope and pulled herself down. The rope had the same mirror brightness as her body. She watched her silver hands wrap around it, and saw that her suit joined the rope seamlessly as she touched it.
    She pulled herself toward the mirror the others had entered. It was another nullfield, protecting the entrance to an underground warren. She tried to go through it, but only got as far as her neck. Vaffa was inside, floating in a bare rock corridor, and she was smiling slightly. Lilo backed out and took off her vest and kilt, which had not been enclosed in her suit when it came on. There had to be a way to get them in, but she couldn’t see what it might be. She entered, leaving her clothes behind.
    Vaffa was still there, and now she was holding something out to Lilo. It was a pressurized suitcase.
    “You’ll have to learn about nullfields,” Vaffa said. “Nothing gets through them but something that’s encased in another nullfield. Except some of them are tuned to let in certain frequencies of light. That’s how you can see through your suit.”
    Lilo was angry, but wasn’t going to say anything. She took the box from Vaffa and turned around. The mirror surface was invisible from the inside. She seemed to be looking out the end of an open shaft. As she stepped through, her suit formed around her again.
    “Is this some sort of initiation?” she snapped, as she returned with her clothes. Vacuum had not done themany good. The kilt contained volatile plastics which had begun to boil off.
    “No,” Vaffa said. “Not really. Though it never hurts to get it through your head that things are different here.” She paused, and looked at the ruined clothes as Lilo took them out again. “I hope those weren’t your favorites or anything.”
    Lilo said nothing.
    “I’ll give you a few useful tips,” Vaffa said. Lilo looked up, vaguely surprised. Vaffa had never been the type to volunteer anything.
    “For free?”
    “Sure,” she laughed. “One is when you go outside, hold your hair back out of your eyes. The field will compress your hair to your head, tightly, as the air spaces in it are squashed out. If your hair is in your face, you won’t be able to see.”
    “Thanks. I’ll remember that.”
    “The second thing is to be careful when you’re talking. That thing in your throat will broadcast whenever you subvocalize. If you think too hard, you might find everyone listening in.”
    “I’ll remember it.”
    The corridor was round and looked unfinished. Someone had simply bored it out, not bothering about leveling the door. Sprayed stripes of yellow and green indicated the top and bottom, and arrows directed traffic. Lilo knew it would make sense eventually, but her disorientation was nearly total after three turns. Had she gone up or down, left or right? Was