“Hello there, Tony,” Van Atta greeted him with cheerful familiarity.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Van Atta,” the youth replied deferentially. He smiled at Leo, and cocked his head at Van Atta in a pantomime plea for an introduction. “Is this the new teacher you were telling us about?”

“Indeed he is. Leo Graf, this is Tony—he’ll be among your first trainees. He’s one of the habitat’s permanent residents,” Van Atta added with peculiar emphasis. “Tony is a welder and joiner, second grade—working on first, eh, Tony? Shake hands with Mr. Graf.”

Van Atta was smirking. Leo had the impression that if he hadn’t been in free fall, he would have been bouncing on his heels.

Tony pulled himself obediently over the control panel. He wore red shorts—

Leo blinked, and caught his breath in shock. The boy had no legs. Emerging from his shorts were a second set of arms.

Functional arms, he was even now using his—his lower left hand, Leo supposed he’d have to call it—to anchor himself as he reached out to Leo. His smile was perfectly unselfconscious.

Leo had lost his own hand grip, and had to fumble to retrieve it, and stretch awkwardly to meet the proffered handshake. “How do you do,” Leo managed to croak. It was almost impossible not to stare. Leo forced his gaze to focus on the young man’s bright blue eyes.

“Hello, sir. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Tony’s handshake was shy but sincere, his hand dry and strong.

“Um…” Leo stumbled, “um, what’s your last name, uh, Tony?”

“Oh, Tony’s just my nickname, sir. My full designation is TY-776-424-XG.”

“I, uh—guess I’ll call you Tony, then,” Leo murmured, increasingly stunned. Van Atta, most unhelpfully, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying Leo’s discomforture.

“Everybody does,” said Tony agreeably.