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When the metal helmet of the OneMan suit closed over Seth’s head, his ears popped. Sweat soaked his armpits and trickled down his sides. He’d performed only a few space walks before, and they didn’t get easier. During the last one he’d almost killed himself.
“I’m not going to die,” Seth told himself for the twentieth time as he enabled the thrusters and checked his fuel and air levels. The flight prep took him twice as long as it should because he had to do everything with his clumsy left hand. His right hand was badly mangled;