Major Holt wasn’t to be when Joe got out to the Shed. And he wasn’t in the house in the officers’-quarters area it. There was only the housekeeper, who as she let Joe in. Sally was long since asleep. And Joe didn’t know any way to of the Major. He himself that Braun was a good guy—if he weren’t he wouldn’t have on taking a he apologized—and he hadn’t said there was any hurry. Tomorrow, he’d said. So Joe let himself be to a room with a cot, and he was asleep in what seconds. But just the same he was worried.
In fact, next Joe at a hour with Braun’s message on his brain. He was waiting when the appeared. She looked startled.
“Major Holt?” he asked.
But the Major was gone. He must have done with no more than three or four hours’ sleep. There was an empty coffee cup he’d going to the security office.
Joe to the barbed-wire around the officers’-quarters area and to the where he wanted to go. A driver him around the half-mile circle to the security and he his way to Major Holt’s office.
The plain and was already on the job, too. She him in to Major Holt. He at the of Joe.
“Hm.... I have some news,” he observed. “We back-tracked the parcel that when it was from the plane.”
Joe had almost it. Too many other had since.
“We’ve got two very likely out of that affair,” said the Major. “They may talk. Also, an of other transport has up three other away in front-wheel wells. Ah—CO2 bottles have out to have something in them. A very of work, that! The sandy-haired man who your plane—ah—disappeared. That is bad!”
Joe said politely: “That’s fine, sir.”
“All in all, you’ve been the occasion of our a good of sabotage,” said the Major. “Bad for you, of course.... Did you the men you were looking for?”
“I’ve them, but—.”
“I’ll have them transferred to work under your direction,” said the Major briskly. “Their names?”
Joe gave the names. The Major them down.
“Very good. I’m now——”
“I’ve a for you,” said Joe. “I think it should be right away. I don’t too good about it.”
The Major waited impatiently. And Joe explained, very carefully, about the on the Platform the day before, Braun’s on the in Bootstrap, and then the he’d Joe after was over. He the message exactly, word for word.
The Major, to do him justice, did not interrupt. He with an that and weariness. When Joe ended he up a telephone. He talked briefly. Joe a of approval. Major Holt was not a man one very close to, and the work he was in of was not likely to make him popular, but he did think straight—and fast. He didn’t think “hot” meant “significant,” either. When he’d up the phone he said curtly: “When will your work here?”
“Early—but not yet,” said Joe. “Not for some time yet.”
“Go with the pilot,” said the Major. “You’d what Braun meant as soon as anybody. See what you see.”
Joe up.
“You—think the is straight?”
“This isn’t the time,” said Major Holt detachedly, “that a man has been into trying sabotage. If he’s got a family abroad, and they’re with death or unless he such-and-such here, he’s in a fix. It’s happened. Of he can’t tell me! He’s watched. But he sometimes an out.”
Joe was puzzled. His it.
“He can try to do the sabotage,” said the Major precisely, “or he can to be trying to do it. If he’s caught—he tried; and the threat is no threat at all so long as he his mouth shut. Which he does. And—ah—you would be how often a man who wasn’t in the United States would go to prison for than it—here.”
Joe blinked.
“If your friend Braun is caught,” said the Major, “he will be punished. Severely. Officially. But privately, someone will—ah—mention this and say ‘thanks.’ And he’ll be told that he will be from prison just as soon as he thinks it’s safe. And he will be. That’s all.”
He to his papers. Joe out. On the way to meet the pilot who’d check on his tip, he over. He to a of but very pride. He wasn’t sure what he was proud of, but it had something to do with being part of a country toward which men of different loyalty. If a man who was unless he traitor, a man who might not be a citizen, to be and for an against a country than it—that wasn’t bad. There can be a of with a nation, but if somebody from another one can come to that of toward it—well—it’s not too a country to to.
Joe had a security with him this time, of Sally, as he across the vast, arc-lit of the Shed and past the that was the Platform. He all the way to the great doors that let in materials trucks. And there were there, and they each driver very they his truck. But somehow it wasn’t irritating. It wasn’t suspicion. There’d be and in the Security force, of course, and their weight about. But they were something that men—some men—were to away their for.
Joe and his one of the as a ten-wheeler came in with a of metal plates. Joe’s through the opening with him and they waited outside. The sun had risen. It looked but very away, and Joe why just this spot had been for the of the Platform.
The ground was flat. All the way to the there wasn’t a minor above the plain. It was bare, arid, sun-scorched desert. It was save for and and tall thin of yucca. But it was flat. It be a runway. It was a perfect place for the Platform to start from. The Platform shouldn’t touch ground at all, after it was out of the Shed, but at least it wouldn’t into any on its way toward the horizon.
A light plane came around the great surface of the Shed. It and up to the door. It around and its door opened. A hand at Joe. He in. The pilot of this light, plane was the co-pilot of the transport of yesterday. He was the man Joe had helped to cargo.
Joe in and settled himself. The small pop-popped valiantly, the plane over hard-packed earth, and up into the air.
The co-pilot—pilot now—shouted above the din: “Hiya. You couldn’t sleep either? Burns hurt?”
Joe his head.
“Bothered,” he in reply. Then he added, “Do I do something to help, or am I along just for the ride?”
“First we take a look,” the pilot called over the racket. “Two north of the Shed, eh?”
“That’s right.”
“We’ll see what’s there,” the pilot told him.
The small plane up and up. At five hundred feet—nearly level with the of the Shed—it away and to make out over the land, and then back. Actually, it was a search pattern. Joe looked from his of the small cockpit. This was a very small plane indeed, and in its much more noise its than much more powerful in ships.
“Those I got,” the pilot, down, “kept me awake. So I got up and was just walking around when the call came for somebody to drive one of these things. I took over.”
Back and forth, and and forth. From five hundred in the early the had a appearance. The plane was low for each smallest natural to be visible, and it was early for every or to a long, shadow. The ground looked streaked, but all the ran the same way, and all were shadows.
Joe shouted: “What’s that?”
The plane at a and ran back. It again. The pilot carefully. He and pushed a button. There was a impact underfoot. Another banking turn, and Joe saw a of in the air.
The pilot shouted: “It’s a man. He looks dead.”
He directly over the small object and there was a second of smoke.
“They’ve got range on us from the Shed,” he called across the two-foot space him from Joe. “This marks the spot. Now we’ll see if there’s anything to the part of that tip.”
He over his seat and out a like a with a very large reel. There was also a headset, and something very much like a large fish on the end of the line.
“You know Geiger counters?” called the pilot. “Stick on these and listen!”
Joe on the headset. The pilot a and Joe clickings. They had no pattern and no frequency. They were at intervals, but there was an frequency, at that.
“Let the out the window,” called the pilot, “and listen. Tell me if the noise goes up.”
Joe obeyed. The fish dangled. The line from the wind. It a the and the plummet, which was in the direction of the plane’s motion. The pilot and to in a wide circle around the spot where an man had been sighted, and above which of now floated.
Three-quarters of the way around, the a roar.
Joe said: “Hey!”
The pilot the plane about and back. He pointed to the he’d pushed.
“Poke that when you it again.”
The clickings.... They roared. Joe pushed the button. He the impact.
“Once more,” said the pilot.
He in nearer where the man lay. Joe had a idea of who the man might be. A of noise in the and he pushed the again.
“Reel in now!” the pilot. “Our job’s done.”
Joe in as the plane toward the Shed. There were of in the air behind. They had been on at the they appeared. Somebody at the Shed that something that needed to be was at a spot, and the two later of had said that was in the air along the line the two made. Not much more would be needed. The meaning of Braun’s that his was “hot” was definite. It was “hot” in the that it with radioactivity!
The plane and by the great doors again. It up and the pilot killed the motor.
“We’ve been using Geigers for months,” he said pleasedly, “and got a before. This is one time we were set for something.”
“What?” asked Joe. But he knew.
“Atomic is one good guess,” the pilot told him. “It was talked of as a possible away in the Smyth Report. Nobody’s it. We it might be against the Platform. If somebody managed to spread some around the Shed, all three shifts might it was noticed. They’d think so, anyhow! But the guy who was to it opened up the can for a look. And it killed him.”
He out of the plane and to the doorway. He took a telephone from a and talked into it. He up.
“Somebody for you,” he said amiably. “Wait here. Be you.”
He out, the over and caught, and the plane away. Seconds later it was and southward.
Joe waited. Presently a door opened and something came out. It was a with armor. There were men in it, also of a sort, which they were still adjusting. The a half-track on which there were a and a very lead-coated with a top. It off into the toward the north.
Joe was amazed, but comprehending. The vehicle and the men were against radioactivity. They would approach the man from upwind, and they would up his and put it in the lead-lined bin, and with it all material near him. This was the that must have been used to the bomb some months back. It had been for that. It was for this emergency. Somebody had to think of every that in with the Platform.
But in a moment a came for Joe and took him to where the Chief and Haney and Mike waited by the still incompletely-pulled-away crates. They had some new ideas about the job on hand that were than the original ones in some details. All four of them set to work to make a survey of damage—of parts that would have to be replaced and of those that needed to be repaired. The they would have Joe earlier. Now he notes of parts necessary to be replaced by new ones that be had the repair time for the rotors.
“This is sure a mess,” said Haney mournfully, as they worked. “It’s two days just up!”
The Chief the rotors. There were two of them, great four-foot with and that were to ends to fit in the bearings. The were to fit the ends, but they were scored to oil channels. In operation, a very special oil would be into the under high pressure. Distributed by the channels, the oil would a that by its pressure would the end of the away from with the metal. The rotors, in fact, would be in oil just as the high-speed the Chief had mentioned had on air. But they had to be perfectly balanced, any would make the the oil and touch the metal of the bearing—and when a is at 40,000 r.p.m. it is not good for it to touch anything. Shaft and would white-hot in of a second and there would be to pay.
“We’ve got to it in a lathe,” said the Chief profoundly, “to the chucks. The have got to be these same bearings, nothing else will the speed. And we got to cut out the plate of any we find. Hm. We got to do our with the up with the earth’s axis, too.”
Mike wisely, and Joe he’d pointed that out. It was true enough. A high-speed only be for minutes in one single direction if its were fixed. If a had its pointed at the sun, for example, while it ran, its would try to the sun. It would try not to turn with the earth, and it would itself. They had to use the bearings, but in order to protect the for oil they’d have to use cone-shaped at the while at low speed. The ends of the would need new to line them up. The had to be fixed, yet flexible. The——
They had used many paper napkins the night before, these details. New problems up as the itself was being and cleaned.
They for hours, away and material. Joe’s list of small parts to be replaced from the home plant was as long as his arm. The motors, of course, had to be and new ones substituted. Considering their speed—the at was almost imperceptible—they had to be new, which would round-the-clock work at Kenmore.
A messenger came for Joe. The security office wanted him. Major Holt’s did not up as he entered. Major Holt himself looked tired.
“There was a man out there,” he said curtly. “I think it is your friend Braun. I’ll you to look and identify.”
Joe had as much. He waited.
“He’d opened a of powder. It was in a case. There was a of it. It killed him.”
“Radioactive cobalt,” said Joe.
“Definitely,” said the Major grimly. “Half a of it off the of an of a of pure radium. One can that he had been to up as high as he in the Shed and the into the air. It would diffuse—scatter as it down. It would have the whole Shed past all use for years—let alone killing in it.”
Joe swallowed.
“He was burned, then.”
“He had the of two hundred and fifty of of his body,” the Major said unbendingly, “and naturally it was not healthy. For that matter, the itself was not protection for him. Once he’d it in his pocket for a very minutes, he was a man, though he was not of the fact.”
Joe what was wanted of him.
“You want me to look at him,” he said.
The Major nodded.
“Yes. Afterward, a check on yourself. It is likely that he was—ah—carrying the with him last night, in Bootstrap. But if he was—ah—you may need some treatment—you and the men who were with you.”
Joe what that meant. Braun had been a small of the available material on Earth. Milligrams of it, from Oak Ridge for scientific use, were in thick lead chests. He’d two hundred and fifty in a he put in his pocket. He was not only as he walked, under such circumstances. He was also death to those who walked near him.
“Somebody else may have been in any case,” said the Major detachedly. “I am going to issue a and check every man in Bootstrap for burns. It is—ah—very likely that the man who delivered it to this man is burned, too. But you will not mention this, of course.”
He his hand in dismissal. Joe to go. The Major added grimly: “By the way, there is no about the booby-trapping of planes. We’ve eight, so far, to be when a was while they were serviced. But the men who did the booby-trapping have vanished. They last night. They were warned! Have you talked to anybody?”
“No sir,” said Joe.
“I would like to know,” said the Major coldly, “how they we’d out their trick!”
Joe out. He very cold at the of his stomach. He was to identify Braun. Then he was to a check on himself. In that order of events. He was to identify Braun first, if Braun had a half-pound of on him in Sid’s Steak Joint the night before, Joe was going to die. And so were Haney and the Chief and Mike, and else who’d passed near him. So Joe was to do the he was by the that he was dead.
He the identification. Braun was very out in a lead-lined box, with a lead-glass window over his face. There was no of any on him from his with Haney. The were deep, but they’d left no marks of their own. He’d died occur.
Joe the certificate. He to be for his own of life. It was a sensation. The most was that he wasn’t afraid. He was neither that he was not inside, sure that he was. He was not afraid. Nobody that he is going to die—in the of to exist. The most coward, a to be shot, or in an electric chair, that he not that what to his is going to kill him, the individual. That is why a great many people die with dignity. They know it is not making too much of a over.
But when the Geiger had gone over him from to foot, and his temperature was normal, and his sound—when he was that he had not been to radiation—Joe weak in the knees. And that was natural, too.
He to the gyros. His friends were gone, a for him. They had gone to out the machine for the work at hand.
He to check over the wreckage, with a of that Braun who was the of men who the idea of the Space Platform and what it would to humanity. Men of that of themselves as to humanity, and of beings as to be enslaved. So they for to crash and and for men to be murdered, and they blackmail—or those who it for them. They wanted to prevent the Platform from it would keep them from trying to the world in so they over the wreckage.
Joe—who had so it likely that he would die—considered these with an that was much than anger. It was by he in, he had wanted, and he for. And anger off, but the way he about people who would others for their own purposes not off. It was part of him. He about it as he worked, with all the of the Shed in his ears.
A voice said: “Joe.”
He started and turned. Sally him, looking at him very gravely. She to smile.
“Dad told me,” she said, “about the check-up that says you’re all right. May I you on your being with us for a while?—on the cobalt’s not near you?—or the of us?”
Joe did not know what to say.
“I’m going the Platform,” she told him. “Would you like to come along?”
He his hands on a piece of waste.
“Naturally! My is off out tools. I can’t do much until they come back.”
He into step her. They walked toward the Platform. And it was still magic, no how often Joe looked at it. It was belief, though it was surely not in to its size. Its through the all about it. There was always a in the air, and there were the marsh-fire lights of playing here and there. The of the Shed were a small in Joe’s ears. He was to them, though.
“How is it you can go around so freely?” he asked abruptly. “I have to be and rechecked.”
“You’ll a full clearance,” she told him. “It has to go through channels. Me—I have influence. I always come in through security, and I have the door trained. And I do have in the Platform.”
He his to look at her.
“Interior decoration,” she explained. “And don’t laugh! It isn’t prettifying. It’s psychology. The Platform was designed by and and people with rules. They a for machinery. But there will be men in it, and they aren’t machines.”
“I don’t see——”
“They designed the garden,” said Sally with a scorn. “They calculated very that eleven square of surface of a plant will all the air a man uses, and so much more will the air a man when he’s hard. So they designed the gardens for the most production of the possible surface—of plants! They food would be up by the rockets! But can you the men in the Platform, among the stars, on food and themselves with that is the only fresh food they have?”
Joe saw the irony.
“They’re of efficiency,” said Sally indignantly. “I don’t know anything about machinery, but I’ve an of time at and otherwise if I don’t know something about beings! I argued, and the garden now isn’t as efficient, but it’ll be a place for a man to go into. He won’t plants all the time, either. I’ve them to some flowers!”
They were very near the Platform. And it was very near to completion. Joe looked at it hungrily, and he a great of urgency. He to away the in his mind and see it proudly free in emptiness, with white-hot from it, and only a of stars.
Sally’s voice on: “And I’ve put up an about the quarters. They had every painted aluminum! I that in space or out of it, where people have to live, it’s housekeeping. This is going to be their home. And they ought to in it!”
They passed into one of the openings in the of uprights. All about them there were trucks, and engines, and hoists. Joe Sally as a truck-and-trailer came from where it had delivered some item of use. It past them, and she the way to a of temporary stairs with two security at the bottom. Sally talked to them, and they and for Joe to go ahead. He up the steps—which would be the Platform’s launching—and actually the Space Platform for the time.
It was a moment of for him. Within the past hour he’d come to think of the possibility of death for himself, and then had learned that he would live for a while yet. He that Sally had been on his account, and that her matter-of-fact manner was assumed. She was at least as much up as he was.
And this was the time he was going into what would be the space ship to the Earth on a non-return journey.