makes for himself to get the figures he willset into a formalized pattern as it takes shape, before throwing hispenciled figurings into the wastebasket.
The second set was exact; created with drawing instruments on Mike'sdrafting board, and each of the component circuits would have createdan effect that would have interlocked in the whole, but it would takethe most erudite of persons to figure each into its effect, and itseffect into the whole, and the effect of the whole was somewhat thatsomebody might someday figure out--but would possibly cancel amagneto-ionic effect if such existed. The drawings looked extremelyimpressive.
As the second set of drawings neared completion, Ishie glanced at theclock, then turned to the Cow's vocoder.
"How soon will Space Lab One reach the northernmost point of herpresent orbit and begin a swing to the south?" he asked.
Mike looked puzzled, but the Cow answered, "In ten minutes,thirty-seven seconds. At precisely 05:27:53 ship time."
"I think," said Ishie, "we'd best put a switch on our magnetic fieldso that we can reverse the field and the thrust."
"Why?" asked Mike.
"Because," Ishie explained, "when we reach the top of our coursenorthward, then the thrust of the Confusor and Earth's gravity comeinto conflict, moving our entire orbit off-center and bringing uscloser to the pole. In not too many orbits, that eccentricity in ourorbit might pull us into the Van Allen belt. We can't afford that.Now, if we reverse the thrust at the right time, our orbit will beenlarged and we stay out of troubled spaces."
Mike was still puzzled. "I don't see how that works," he said. "Whywouldn't we just go off in a spiral on our present thrust?"
"The acceleration of Earth is a much greater influence," Ishie triedto make it clear, "than our little mosquito here. As long as they worktogether, things go well. But when Earth dictates that we will nowswing south, be it ever so few degrees south, our mosquito isoverpowered and can only drag us clear to Earth-center on a closingspiral, which would eventually lead us to crash somewhere in thesouthern hemisphere, a good many orbits from now.
"I hope," he said, "reversing the magnetic field will indeed reverseour little mosquito's thrust." He moved toward the Confusor.
"Hold it," said Mike. "The displacement in orbit won't be very much,at least on the first few go-arounds, will it? and if we switch itnow, somebody'll start getting suspicious of this magneto-ioniceffect. The effect that's doing all this. A sudden reversal might notbe in its character, if it had a character. And anyhow, we don't wantto give another jerk on Hot Rod. We might jerk something loose thistime. We've already wiped out Thule Base--and there's no use addingscalps to an already full belt."
"O.K.," said Ishie. "Then now, I think it is time that we presentedour formal drawings to the captain; and I think that when we presentthem we will suggest that we start work immediately on construction,even while he is checking out our drawings through his experts, sothat the project will not be delayed."
* * * * *
On the bridge, the captain received the drawings with relief.
"Thank you, gentlemen. If these prove out, you may have saved thesatellite by the rapidity of your work. Dr. Kimball calculated thatour present acceleration will take us dangerously close to the VanAllen belt in about three orbits, and I need not tell you what thatwould mean."
Ishie spoke up immediately. "In that case, captain, perhaps Mr.Blackhawk and I had better start construction on this deviceimmediately, without waiting for you to complete the check-out. Thatmay save us invaluable time."
"Of course," said the captain. "What assistance will you need?"
"Of the greatest priority," replied Ishie gravely, "is access to themachine shop. The solar flare should be about wearing itself out."
"Oh ... of course. It may be." The captain's face was slightly red ashe realized he had not thought to check this point. "Bessie, ask thecomputer...."
"Yes, sir," she answered quickly, and returned shortly. "The computersays the radiation count is down to ten M.R. above normal."
"It's a fairly low reading, even if it is above the Cow's normal-safemark. That reading could go on for hours, which we may not have,"commented Ishie. "Perhaps we could disregard so narrow a differential...."
"In your opinion, doctor," the captain asked, "would it be safe toreturn the personnel to the rim? Of course, I would have to return theentire ship to normal conditions in order to give the machine shop orany other part of the rim its normal six-foot shielding," he added,"so please consider your answer carefully."
"I think you would be quite safe to do so, captain. Considering thefact that otherwise we may go into the Van Allen belt, I think itshould be done without question."
To himself, Mike chortled gleefully. This grave, pedantic physicistwas about as unlike the co-conspirator with whom he had worked for thepast nearly ten hours as was possible. "The guy's a genius at a lot ofthings," he thought to himself. "Puts on the social mock-up expectedof him like you'd put on a suit of clothes--and takes it off just ascompletely," he added as an afterthought.
* * * * *
The return to the rim was slower than had been the evacuation--but itwas complete within twenty minutes of the decision to return thesatellite to normal.
In the machine shop, Paul and Tombu, with Ishie and Mike, weregathering the materials they'd need for the odd construction--Paulsinging to himself as he worked.
_"I got in the shuttle, thought it went to the Base;_ _I'd learned my trade; there I'd take my place_ _Safely on Earth; but I found me in space--_ _I'd went where I wasn't going!"_
"What's that song?" asked Ishie of the spaceman.
"Oh, that's just 'The Spaceman's Lament.' You make it up as you goalong." His voice grew louder, taking the minor, wailing key at avolume the others could hear.
_"I got on the wheel, thought I'd stay for the ride--_ _I'd found a funny suit in which to hide--_ _But I went through a closet--and I was outside!_ _I'd went where I wasn't going!"_
Tombu and Mike joined happily in the chorus, bawling it out at the topof their lungs as they began the work that would make the bigConfusor.
_"Oh ... there's a sky-trail leading from here to there_ _And another yonder showing--_ _But when I get to the end of the run_ _It'll be where I wasn't going!"_
Meanwhile, facsimile copies of the official drawings had been made forthe other interested scientists aboard, and also sent by transfax toU.N. headquarters for distribution among Earth's top-level scientists.
They were innocent enough in concept, and sufficiently complex indesign to require a great deal of study by these conservativeindividuals who would never risk a hasty guess as to the consequencesof even so simple an action as sneezing at the wrong time.
* * * * *
Major Steve Elbertson awoke with a start, to see a medic's eyes inchesfrom his own. For a moment, fearing himself under physical attack, hestruck out convulsively, and then as the face withdrew he sat upslowly.
He was slightly nauseous; very dizzy; and his instincts told him thathe needed a gallon of coffee as soon as he could get it. Then themedic's voice penetrated.
"Please, sir, you must rest. No excitement."
Almost, he was persuaded. It would be so easy to relax; to givesomeone else the responsibility. But the concept of responsibilitybrought him struggling up again.
Hot Rod was a dangerous weapon. He could not act irresponsibly.
"How long was I out?" he muttered.
The medic glanced at the clock. "Just over nineteen hours, sir."
"Wha-at? You dared to keep me off duty that long? I must report forduty at once."
"Please, sir. No excitement. You must rest. Just a moment and I'llcall Dr. Green." With that the medic turned and fled.
As Dr. Green approached, Steve Elbertson was already on his feet,swaying dizzily, white as a sheet, but perhaps the latter was morefrom anger than from anything else.
"Major Elbertson. You received a severe dose of radiation. You areunder my personal supervision and will return to bed at once."
"Is the flare over?" Elbertson asked the question, although alreadyvaguely aware that the ship was again spinning, that he was standingon the floor fairly firmly, and that, therefore, the emergency must beover.
"Yes."
"In that case, sir, my duty is to my post on Hot Rod."
"Hot Rod's out of commission and so are you. I cannot be responsiblefor the consequences if you do not follow my