He longed to be standing on solid ground and wished the whole matter he’d come here for was over. The trip up to the orbital had been exhausting, as usual. The Z-O operated on Greenwich Mean Time, which meant it was something like four a.m. here, whatever meaning that had for a station in low-earth orbit. Hague’s personal body clock wasn’t far off, and he wished for the hundredth time that the whole thing was over and done with so he could at least get some sleep.