re-introduce to you a companion whom you have known asLathe Smith.
"This, gentlemen," he said formally, gesturing one of the men forward,"is the Herr Doktor Heinrich Schmidt, of whom you would have heardwere you familiar with the more erudite of the developments of spacephysics.
"Dr. Schmidt," he added, "it is a pleasure to be able to again accordyou the courtesies and respect that are your due.
"Now for myself," he continued, "it may surprise you to know that I,too, have a somewhat more advanced rank than you have suspected."Deliberately he unpinned the major's insignia that he wore, andbrought out a sealed packet, opened it, and pinned on four stars.
"Gentlemen," he finished, "may I introduce myself? General SteveElbertson, commanding officer of all space forces of the UnitedNations Security Forces.
"Now," he said briskly to his astounded men, his voice crackling withauthority, "take stations.
"Dr. Schmidt will key in the number one laser bank only. You willselect as your target area that area through which the passengerspokes of the wheel pass. These will each in turn be your targets ifit becomes necessary to fire.
"Dr. Schmidt has advised me that, should it become necessary to fireon the hub, the resultant explosion of the shielding water will wreckthe big wheel.
"If we should miss and hit the rim, the resultant explosion wouldinevitably wreck both the big wheel and Project Hot Rod.
"Therefore, gentlemen, I caution the most accurate possible aim.
"And Dr. Schmidt, will you connect the storage power supply you havereadied, please?"
Quickly then, he slid into the communications officer's seat, as theSecurity officers assumed each of the four major posts of the project,while Chauvenseer took up a stance at his general's right hand, readyto respond as directed.
* * * * *
On the bridge, Captain Nails had been annoyed. Too many queries frompeople who really didn't have authority over his satellite. Too manydirectives and counter-directives were flooding at him from variousofficials on Earth.
Some one down there even had the temerity to suggest that Securitytake over--not officially, just sort of take over.
If that didn't take the cake, he thought. Trying to put that crumbSecurity officer into command, _real_ command, of a scientist? OverHIS people? Never!
And just because somebody had a wild idea about sabotage--after all,the whole thing must be some sort of effect or accident. Why couldn'tthey leave people alone long enough to find out what was really goingon?
And where was Elbertson, anyhow? The man had had plenty of time tofreshen up. Possibly he had caved in some place. The medic had said hewas sick. But even so, I'd best check, he thought.
Reaching for the intercom switch that would give him a private line toSecurity quarters in the rim, his gaze happened to fall on the panelthat still displayed Hot Rod on its taut cable--
--And seven figures riding the end of the cable to the air lock.
Elbertson, of course, he thought furiously. And taking his men outwhen the proton level was still too high to go beyond the rimshielding....
Then the captain stopped in mid-thought. This was no idle act of a manfeeling the effects of drugs.
He switched the intercom quickly to the Hot Rod crew's quarters on therim. "Dr. Koblensky!" he almost shouted into the mike.
"Just a minute, sir," came the answer, and seconds that seemed likeeternities passed before the doctor's calm voice answered, "Dr.Koblensky speaking."
"Did you know that seven men were going out to Hot Rod?"
"Of course not. They mustn't...."
The captain switched off and changed to the intercom for the machineshop. "Dr. Ishie. Mr. Blackhawk. To the bridge on the double. _Fast_,"he said.
It might not be the saboteur, he thought, but the chances lookedgrimly real that Earth was right--that the whole thing was sabotage,and those were the seven saboteurs. While he waited, he checked theSecurity quarters for Elbertson. The major was not there, nor was hein the hospital.
Elbertson, he thought. I've been blind.
He decreased the magnification of Hot Rod so that the entire projectshowed.
Mike arrived first, almost skidding to a stop at the captain'sconsole, Ishie right behind him.
"The saboteur--seven men that I believe to be saboteurs--are aboardHot Rod," the captain told him crisply. "Can they activate it?"
"Captain, there's no saboteur...." Mike began, but the captaininterrupted.
"Gentlemen, I'm not asking you to be the judge of that. If they aresaboteurs, is there any way that they can activate Hot Rod?"
"Oh, they could have storage batteries aboard, I suppose." Mike didn'teven pretend to be excited.
"Then we will assume they have, Mr. Blackhawk." The tone of thecaptain's voice told Mike he'd better darned well believe in thosesaboteurs or tell the captain the truth--and that quickly. "Now,assuming Hot Rod can be activated, we will also assume that theirfirst aim will be to control the wheel. They would, therefore, aim atthe hub and issue an ultimatum."
"They might aim at a target on Earth, and issue an ultimatum to us."Mike would play the game.
"No. We would refuse such an ultimatum. They would aim at us. Can youprevent that?"
Mike thought hard. He'd better come up with an answer to that one,saboteurs or no.
"If they shot through the hub, they'd hit our shielding water andexplode the hub-hull. That would wreck the wheel, and they'd need thewheel. The only place they could safely shoot us would be thepassenger spokes, and that would take some pretty fine targetshooting--with only one laser bank. They could do it though," he saidthoughtfully.
"Assume, Mr. Blackhawk, that if they couldn't hit the passengerspokes, they'd be willing to destroy the wheel in order to gaincontrol. Is there any way to prevent that?"
Mike stood completely silent for almost a minute. Then he grinned."Sure," he said. "If we turned the rim towards Hot Rod, they couldn'tfire into the rim without hitting that shielding--and that wouldcreate an explosion, even from their smallest possible shot, thatwould almost inevitably take Hod Rod with it. If we turn the lab sothat only the rim is towards Hot Rod, it's suicide to shoot us."
"You will swing the rim of the wheel into that alignment as rapidly asit can possibly be done." The captain's voice practically lifted thetwo men off the bridge, and they were on their way to the engineeringquarters with every appearance of the urgency they should have felt ifthey had not known who--or rather what--was the real saboteur.
* * * * *
Then Mike heard Ishie's soft voice from behind him, slightlybreathless. "At that, you'd better swing the rim and swing her fast,Mike. The captain sure 'nuff believes in his saboteurs, and it's justpossible they're real."
O.K., thought Mike, and really moving now he reached the engineeringquarters a good ten strides ahead of his companion.
As he entered the open bulkhead lock he saw a man that he recognizedas one of the Security personnel, and brushing on past him said, "Ifyou want to see me, come back later. I'm going to be very busy herefor a while."
Mike headed for the panel that controlled the air jets and otherdevices that spun the wheel.
The Security man didn't hesitate. Seeing the ship's engineer about tomake important--and possibly subversive--adjustments, he drew hisneedle gun and aimed it squarely at Mike's back. "Halt--in the name ofSecurity!" he barked.
Slowly Mike swung around, eying the man coldly, and began a question.
But there was no need. Dr. Chi Tung, having seen what was going onthrough the lock before he entered, had held back just long enough forthe Security man to turn fully towards Mike. Now he launched himselfthrough the lock like a small but well-guided missile, and arriving onthe Security guard's back, had his gun-arm down and half broken beforethe man knew what was happening. Had he been alone, it is possiblethat the larger man might have won. But Mike had never been fond ofpeople who pulled guns on him, even if they were only sleepy gu
ns.
Between the two of them, the Security guard was lucky not to lose hislife in the first two seconds of battle.
The conflict ended almost before it had begun, with a meaty slap ofMike's fist connecting with the man's jaw, right below the ear. Ithadn't been a clean punch, Mike thought, but then he wasn't reallyused to fighting in this gravity. Anyhow, the man was out.
And now came the question of what to do with him, but Mike left thatto Ish.
He turned back to the precession panel a bit more convinced thatperhaps the captain had been right--perhaps there were enemies aboard.
The precession controls, though operational, had not to date beenrequired. Carefully, Mike switched the sequence that