CHAPTER XIII
Fly the Winged Horse!
Rick held a servomotor in place while Phil Sherman, one of the othertechnicians, bolted it securely.
"There you are," Phil said. "Anything else?"
"That does it. Thanks, Phil. I can wire it up now." Rick got to work,connecting up the newly installed servo. Like other servomotors it wastiny and powerful, translating electronic signals into mechanicalactions. This particular one was no larger than a spool of thread, butit would actuate control tabs on the wings of Pegasus. Other motorsranged in size from even smaller to quite large ones about as big as agallon can. The small ones were terrifically expensive, probably thereason they had been attractive to the Earthman and his gang.
When Rick was finished with the simple connections, he called Dr. Bond.The elderly scientist checked carefully, then nodded approval.
Phil Sherman stuck his head in the door. "Dick Earle wants everyone outfront. Staff meeting."
Rick and Dr. Bond hurriedly disconnected soldering irons and went out tothe main shed.
The Pegasus staff was gathering around Dr. Gordon, who was using a largepacking case for a podium. Rick saw the section chiefs conversing in lowtones next to Gordon's perch, and his heart pounded. Had the Earthmanappeared again?
Then, as the staff finally collected and Dr. Gordon began, Rick relaxeda little. This wasn't about the Earthman, apparently.
"We are about to make a major schedule change," Gordon began. "However,until we consult with the Pegasus group, we will not know if the changeis feasible.
"The Cetus group has run into a major roadblock. One essential piece ofapparatus cannot be delivered on schedule, because of trouble at thefactory where it's being made. In all probability Cetus will be held upabout three weeks. Now, as some of you know, the Cetus staff had alreadybegun work at the pad, and in the blockhouse. The question is, doesPegasus wish to take over the Cetus schedule?"
Gordon held up his hand as a murmur swept the Pegasus crew. "This doesnot mean you must shoot on their firing date. It merely means that youmust be out of the way by the time they are ready to move in again. Ifyou can, we will switch the schedule around and put you next. If youcan't, it will only mean that your firing date must be delayed. It's upto you--specifically, it's up to your chiefs. However, we wanted you allto know about Cetus just to spike any wild rumors that might getstarted. The delay is not due to anything but a factory failure todeliver."
Dr. Gordon yielded his improvised speaker's stand to Dr. Howard Bernais,the project technical director. Dr. Bernais was administrative andtechnical head of the entire project. Presumably he met with the sectionchiefs fairly often, but he had an office near John Gordon in the mainadministrative building and seldom came to the project.
The technical director was a gray-haired, gaunt, bespectacled man whosurveyed the staff through thick lenses. His voice filled the greatshed, not that he spoke loudly, but because he had that indefinablesomething known as "command presence." Rick was impressed.
"We sometimes forget, we technical people, that we live in a democracy,"Dr. Bernais began. "We're so used to taking orders that when someoneoffers us a free choice we're rather surprised. However, when JohnGordon spoke to me about a change in schedule, I felt we should talk itover. If you, as the people who will make Pegasus live up to its name,are eager and willing, the change will work. If you have doubts, it maynot."
The technical director peered through his thick lenses and located LarsJannsson. "You have some difficult problems with the third-stage motor,Lars. Can you be ready?"
Jannsson turned to his crew for confirmation, then nodded. "We will beready whenever you say, Dr. Bernais."
Robert Bialkin, head of the air-frame section, spoke up. "We're justabout done anyway, Doctor. We have a few minor modifications of theairfoils, then we're finished."
"Good. Where is Cliff Damon?... What shape are you in?"
Before Damon could reply, Prince Machiavelli put in an appearance. Thelittle spacemonk had apparently decided it was too lonely in theworkshop. Now he jumped from head to head, ignoring the surprised criesof the staff, until he landed on Rick's shoulder.
Amid the laughter, Cliff Damon said, "Here's one of our chiefinstruments to speak for himself. I think he's ready."
Dr. Bernais peered at the marmoset, then nodded gravely. "Just onesuggestion. He will undoubtedly be man- or monk-of-the-week on the coverof a news magazine. Perhaps you should give him a crew haircut, so he'lllook more like one of the staff." He held up his hand and the chucklessubsided. "Then you can be ready, Cliff?... Good. Dick Earle! It's nowup to you. How say you?"
Dick hesitated. Rick watched him, anxious to see what his chief wouldsay. He cuddled the spacemonk in his arms and stroked the silky head.
"We'll have to put in plenty of overtime," Dick said finally. "I thinkwe can make it all right, but it will put a load on the staff. What doyou think, boys?"
Rick joined in the chorus of yeas! If every other section could beready, electronics would be, too.
"There's your answer, Doctor," Dick Earle said.
"Thank you. Now I ask for a unanimous opinion. Can we fly our wingedhorse on this new schedule?"
The shout sent Prince Machiavelli skittering up to Rick's neck and downinside his shirt.
Pegasus was committed to flight!
The problem of the Earthman was looming larger, Rick thought. The nexttarget for the saboteur would be his own project. The very idea made hima little ill. Pegasus was too big, too important to be sabotaged! But herecalled ruefully, Orion had also been too big and important. Of courseno trace of the Earthman had been found by the Orion staff, but theservomotor theft seemed to tie the Earthman to the disaster.
"I'm going to be up to my neck in spaghetti," Rick told Scotty when theymet for supper. "I don't see how there'll be much chance to look for theEarthman."
"It should be better than ever," Scotty objected. "For the first time,you'll be right on the target."
That was true, Rick agreed. He hadn't looked at it in quite that way."What are your plans?" he asked.
"I'm going to concentrate on the warehouse. Remember what ColonelPreston said about the clerks? They swore they hadn't seen anyunauthorized person entering while they were watching the shoot."
"But they couldn't have kept an eye on the warehouses," Rick objected."Anyone could have sneaked in."
Scotty shook his head. "I don't think so. Of course they watched theshoots, but you can also bet they were turning pretty often to look atthe warehouses. They must have seen some activity. Otherwise, why wouldthey say _unauthorized_ persons?"
"I can't imagine," Rick admitted. "What's your idea?"
"The only people who could go in and out without being noticedparticularly, or challenged, would be members of the service staff."
"Like the postman?"
"Yes. Or telephone repairmen, or power men, or janitors, or plumbers.There must be a dozen different kinds of people who have the run of thebase because of their duties. I'm going to keep an eye open to see whogoes in and out regularly--and Luis Hermosa is going to help."
"Luis? How can he help?"
"The fire station has a good view of the warehouses. You know howfiremen are. When they're not cleaning or making repairs, they like tosit out front. Luis is out of the infirmary and back on limited duty,and another pair of eyes will help. Once we establish who has free runof the warehouses, I'll try to see which of them have any connectionwith Mac or Pancho. Okay?"
"Sounds good," Rick agreed. "And I'll keep my red-rimmed eyes wide opendown at the pad, too. We'll get something on this Earthman yet!"