The ventilation
shaft reminded Two-Five of a broodmale’s tunnel: a tight fit for an adult Slash
Second. He was flat on his long belly, crouching on his four legs, supporting
his upper body with two of his four arms and holding the pouch in front of his
head with the other two. Silent as a swamp predator, he headed anti-spin-wise
along the shaft.

      It does not spin, he thought, as he
came to his first objective: the turn into a shaft to the station’s inner ring.
He took the turn, edging around the awkward corner with care. Almost, he became
stuck, but he was patient; a scale at a time, he crept around the ninety-degree
turn, until he was at last straight and true and moving like a whisper along
the station spoke.

      Another turn,
this one a little easier to navigate, and he
was in the inner ring.