"Mmm . -- ...General, isn't your tracking radar always manned anyhow? I thought this country had a 'radar umbrella' over it."
The general answered stiffly, "That's not a proper question, Mr. Barnes."
"I suppose not. Big difference between passing a law and getting appropriations to carry it out, isn't there?" He thought a minute. "General, suppose I guarantee blips on your tracking screens?"
"What do you mean?"
Barnes said, "General, I've known you since open cockpits. You've used a lot of my planes~"
"You make good planes, Mr. Barnes."
"Tonight I want some cooperation. This is it, Whitey."
"Huh?"
"We blast -- off tonight. As long as you know, you can call White Sands and make sure they track us, too. And Whitey -- "
"Yes, Jim?"
"What with getting your crew organized and calling White Sands it will be another hour before you can call Washington, wouldn't you think?"
Silence persisted so long that Barnes thought he -- had been cut off, then the general answered, "It might take that long. Anything more you had better tell me?"
"No...that's enough. Except one thing; I'm going, Whitey. I'm piloting it."
"Oh. Good luck, Jim."
"Thanks, Whitey."
As Barnes turned away, he saw a plane circling the area, its lights blinking. The elevator creaked behind him; he looked up to see Corley, Bowles, and Traub descending. Corley shouted, "Is that Dr. Hastings?"
"I hope so."
The plane landed and a jeep drove up to it. A few minutes later the jeep swung into the bull pen and up to the crane; Doctor Hastings got out. Corley ran to meet him.
"Doctor Hastings! You have it?"
"Greetings, gentlemen. Yes, indeed." Hastings tapped a bulging pocket.
"Give it to me!"
"Suppose we go into the ship? I'd like to discuss it with you."
"Jump aboard." The two savants mounted the elevator and started up.
Admiral Bowles touched Barnes' sleeve. "Jim-a word with you."
"Shoot."
Bowles indicated Traub with his eyes; Barnes caught the meaning and they moved inside. "Jim," Bowles asked in a whisper, "what do you know about this man Traub?"
"Nothing that you don't. Why?"
"He's foreign born, isn't he? Germany? Poland?"
"Russia, for all I know. Does it matter?"
Bowles frowned. "There's been sabotage, Jim."
"The hell you say! What sort?"
"The earth-departure radar wouldn't function. Traub opened up the front, then called me over."
"What was it?"
"A pencil mark drawn between two leads. It -- "
"I get you, a carbon short. Sabotage, all right. Well?"
"My point is, he found it too easily. How would he know right where to find it if he didn't do it himself?"
Barnes thought about it. "If Traub is trying to stop us, all he has to do is to refuse to go. We can't go without him-and he knows it."
"Suppose his object was not just to stop us, but to wreck the ship?"
"And kill himself in the bargain? Be logical, Red."
"Some of those people are fanatics, Jim. Beyond logic."
Barnes considered it. "Forget it, Red."
"But -- "
"I said, 'Forget it!' Get on back in that ship and prowl around. Imagine that you are a saboteur, try to think where you would hide a bomb-or what you would wreck."
"Aye, aye, sir!"
"Good. Mannie!"
"Yes, Mr. Barnes." Traub trotted up; Barnes told him to go up and continue checking. The phone at the foot of the crane rang; it was Styles again.
"Boss? Just got a call from the pass gate. The deputy there is hooked by car radio with the deputies at the road blocks -- "
"Good. Nice organizing, Herb."
"Not good! The north road black reports a car with a bailiff; he has a federal court order to stop the takeoff. They let him through."
Barnes swore softly. "Call, the pass gate. Tell the deputy there to stop him."
"I did. He won't. He says he can't interfere with federal business."
"That tears it!" Barnes stopped to think. "Tell him to make almighty sure that the man is what he says he is. Tell him that the court order is almost certainly phony-which it is. Tell him to hold the man while he gets in touch with the sheriff's office and has the sheriff phone the judge who is supposed to have issued the described order."
"I'll try," Styles answered, "but suppose the order is kosher, boss? Hadn't I better just put the slug on him and dump him in a closet until the fireworks are over?"
Barnes weighed this. "No-you'd spend your life breaking rocks. Gain me all the minutes you can-then hightail it for the blockhouse. Is everybody clear?"
"Everybody but the car and driver for Mrs. Corley."
"How about Admiral Bowles' wife?"
"He sent her off earlier-the Admiral doesn't like ships watched out of sight."
"Bless his superstitious heart! Send Mrs. Corley's car into the pen. I'm going to button up around here."
"Roger!"
Barnes turned around to find Corley and Hastings descending. He waited, bursting with impatience. Corley spoke as they reached bottom. "Oh, Jim, I -- "
"Never mind! Is everything okay up there?"
"Yes, but -- "
"No time! Say good-bye to your wife, Doctor Hastings -- good-bye, and thanks! Your plane's waiting."
"Jim," protested Corley, "what's the rush? It's -- "
"No time!" A car swung in through the gate of the pen, came toward them. "There's your wife. Say good-bye and get back here. Move!" Barnes turned away and went to the crane operator. "Barney!"
"Yeah?"
"We're going up now-for the last time. As soon as we are off the crane, back it-away.-- The safety stops are off the tracks?"
"Sure."
"Off entirely, or just moved back?"
"Off entirely. Don't worry; I won't run her off the rails."
"Yes, you will. Run the crane right off the end." "Huh? Mr. Barnes, if I dropped the wheels into the sand, it would take a week to get her back on."
"Check. That's exactly what I want. After you do it, don't stop to explain; just run for the blockhouse."
The operator looked baffled. "Okay-you said it."
Barnes came back to the elevator. Corley and his wife were standing near her car. She was crying.
Barnes shaded his eyes against the floodlights and tried to see the road to the pass gate. The foundry cut off his view. Suddenly headlights gleamed -- around that building, turned onto the shop circle and came toward the bull pen entrance. Barnes shouted, "Doc! Now! Hurry!"
Corley looked up, then hastily embraced his wife. Barnes shouted, "Come on! Come on!"
Corley waited to hand his wife into the car. Barnes climbed onto the elevator and, as Corley reached it, pulled him aboard. "Barney! UP!"
Cables creaked and groaned; the platform crawled upward. As Mrs. Corley's car approached the gate the other car started -- in. Both cars stopped, then th& strange car bulled on throUgh. It 'gunned in second toward the crane and slammed to a stop; a man swarmed out.
He ran to the elevator, the platform was thirty feet above his head. He waved and shouted. "Barnes! Come down here!"
Barnes shouted back, "Can't hear you! Too much racket!"
"Stop the elevator! I've got a court order!"
The driver of the car )umped out and ran toward the crane control station. Barnes watched, unable to stop whatever was to come.
Barney reached behind him and grabbed a wrench; the driver stopped short. "Good boy!" Barnes breathed.
The elevator reached the airlock door; Barnes nudged Corley. "In you go!" He followed Corley, turned and lifted the gangway off the lip of the door, shoved it clear with his foot. "Barney! Get going!"'