Headley locked on his helmet, cogged the port shut, tested his radio. Caxton answered shortly, shut his visi-ports and both turned to the entrance of the ship.
Metal squealed beneath Headley's hands; then the cogs were loose. Headley braced his shoulder against the port, strained mightily, was joined by his partner. Together, their strength was sufficient to force the door open against pressure of the air outside.
The air gushed in with incredible force, shoved the men forcefully against the metal wall, then subsided as the pressure was equalized. Headley stepped forward, felt the icy crystals of snow tapping against his suit. He thrust one arm through the port, gasped, as gravity jerked it groundward. He leaned back, sighed. Inside the ship, with its inertia-stasis gravity, normal movement was possible; but outside, with the super-gravity, even slow walking would be a job.
"Set your suit control for three graves," he ordered. "That way, we'll have enough weight to stay on the ground, and will still be able to move."

License information: nan
MPAA: G
Go to source: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/62443/62443-h/62443-h.htm