“This whole thing was Dr. Cay’s obsession, I gather. I never met him, but he must have been one of those, you know, charismatic types, to push through a project with this enormous lead time before any possible pay-off. The first batch is just turning twenty. The extra arms are the wildest part—”

“I’ve often wished I had four hands, in free fall,” Leo murmured, trying not to sound too dubious out loud.

“—but most of the changes were this bunch of metabolic stuff. They never get motion-sick—something about re-wiring the vestibular system—and their muscles maintain tone with an exercise regimen of barely fifteen minutes a day, max—nothing like the hours you and I would have to put in during a long stint in null-gee. Their bones don’t deteriorate at all. They’re even more radiation-resistant than us. Bone marrow and gonads can take four and five times the rems we can absorb before GalacTech grounds us—although the medical types are pushing for them to do their reproducing early in life, while all those expensive genes are still pristine. After that, it’s all gravy for us; workers who never require downside leave; so healthy they’ll go on and on, cutting high-cost turnover; they’re even,” Van Atta snickered, “self-replicating.”

Leo secured the last of his scanty personal possessions. “Where… will they go when they, uh, retire?” he asked slowly.

Van Atta shrugged. “I suppose the company will have to work something out, when the time comes. Not my problem, fortunately; I’ll be retired before then.”

“What happens if they—quit, go elsewhere? Suppose somebody offers them higher pay? GalacTech will be out-of-pocket for all the R&D.”