Alex said, "Hold it."
"Hold it, my foot. You and Sherrine have been--"
"You wanted to know, Bob. Sherrine had the right to know. Sherrine has to go into space because I slept with the Commander's wife."
Needleton gaped, then, grinned. "We-ell. That's a better story than I expected."
'Well, it's true. Sherrine doesn't go, the Station Commander says he won't pick me up. Maybe you can live with that, but I won't volunteer to stay. I won't."
Bob looked at Sherrine. "All right--"
"He already told me."
"I didn't ask, Sherry. But why not six? Gordon's got a woman, too. What are we going to give up for Barbara? Dammit, where the hell is Gordon?"
Two voices echoed oddly, as if the entire hangar space had answered--"
"Wanted fan on Chthon and Sparta and the Hub's ten million stars,
Wanted fan for singing silly in a thousand spaceport bars.
If it's what we really want, we'll build a starship when we can;
If I could just make orbit then I'd be a wanted fan."
"Enough of this," Alex said. "Excuse me." He walked toward were Jenny and Gordon were leafing through notes, nodding, singing:
"Wanted fan for building spacecraft, wanted fan for dipping air,
Sending microwave transmissions, building habitats up there.
Oh the glacier caught us last time; next time we'll try to land!
And when Ice is conquered, it will be by wanted fans!"
Jenny said "Gordon, that's nice. A little premature, maybe, hi, Alex, even a little overoptimistic--"
"Hi, Jenny. Gordon, we're deciding your fate while you play. This is how you came here in the first place, remember?"
"And this is why I stay," Gordon said. "That verse I wrote for you, Alex. And when the stars are conquered, it will be by wanted fans!"
Alex became aware that the others had followed him. He said, "Gordon?"
"I am stilyagin, Alex. Nothing has changed. But there is room for poets here, and novelists, and I can always catch the next flight with Hudson's wife. My voice is needed here. I stay. Four seats, four passengers. Tell my family I kiss them from below. No, let me word that again," he said, while Sherrine and Bob and Gary Hudson looked at each other. "Wait, now--"
Sherrine took Alex's arm and led him into the shadows. She said, "Do you see what I see?"
"Oh, sure. If the Phoenix went up missing me and Gordon, it'd be a disaster. Lonny couldn't be voted dog catcher. So you don't have to come, but why don't you come anyway? Please?"
Sherrine smiled. "Okay."
"Stop toying with my affections and give me a straight answer."
"I'll come if I have to sit in your lap. Now we need to finish loading. Alex, didn't you say you didn't want the plastic corn?"
"Yeah. I appreciate the work that went into getting it, but we don't need plastic that much and we've got better use for the soil, and it doesn't even breed!"
"Well, it was here. Some dedicated fan sneaked it aboard."
"Damn. We'd better find it before it gets buried."
They climbed the scaffold. Sherrine asked, "How do you make love in free fall?"
Alex laughed. "Superbly. It takes a tether."
They eeled into the cabin. "Look inside things," Sherrine said.
"Yeah. Sherrine, this could be your last chance to make love in a gravity field."
"Mmm."
"We could even find a, what did we call those things, they were soft and you spread a sheet over them--" You're kidding, right? Bed."
"Bed."
Hudson laid out a map of the Dryden Research Center portion of Edwards Air Force Base and pointed to a building. "In there. Room G-44. There are three security containers in the room, and the IMU is in the lowest drawer of the middle one."
"And you're sure?" Bob Needleton asked.
"Yes, of course I'm sure. Actually, there are five of the damned things, but that's where they keep one of them, the one that's been tested most recently."
"And when was that?" Sherrine asked.
"About a year--no, more like two years. Twenty months ago. Major Beeson brought it over and we ran tests on the whole Phoenix electronics system. Worked like a charm, too. Then they took the IMU back, packed it in foam, and put it in the safe."
"And it hasn't been moved since?" C.C. Miller asked.
"Not that I know of," Hudson said. "And why would it? Its where it stayed between tests last time."
"When's the next test?" Needleton asked.
"Maybe never. Beeson was transferred. There's a civilian named Feeley in charge of technology studies at Dryden now."
"Feeley?"
"Yeah, the troops call him Touchy Feeley, of course. He's a Green."
"And brain dead, I suppose," Miller said.
"He's not brain dead, he's soul dead. Everything's kept in order, though, all the lab tools put away every day, all the reports filed on time."
"Hell of a way to run a lab," Needleton said. "But I suppose it's as well. Makes it likely your IMU will be right where it belongs." He studied the map. "Harry, it looks like we can go in from the hydrogen valve compound. Get inside there, and then open a new hole into the main base. Fang, you've been watching the base, did you ever see patrols at night?"
"Nothing," Fang said. "Guards at the gates, some people in the operations building, some night crew at the flight line. Nothing else."
"Not much to guard anymore," Hudson said. "One time, they had the hottest airplanes and pilots in the world here. Spaceships, too. Now--"
"Yeah," Needleton said. "OK, Harry, I guess we're set. Let's do it."
They laid the bike on its side next to a mesquite bush and walked the rest of the way to the fence. The twisties holding the fence together hadn't been disturbed in the three days since they'd broken in to start the flow of hydrogen. Thunder Ridge was fifteen miles away, and the sounds of the compressor and turbo expander were lost in the howl of the desert wind.
"Damn moon," Harry muttered. "I like moonlight, but there's too damn much of it."
Nearly full, Bob Needleton thought.
By God! Ten hours! Dawn tomorrow, and I'm up and out of here, off this Earth. If my heart doesn't pound so damn hard it wakes up the guards… Sherrine would be going, too, but not the way he'd thought. Oh, well. I get the best consolation prize there is. Free trip, too. Four seats, and one's mine!
The Hydrogen Valve building had its own fence, but there was a gate from that area into the main Dryden compound. Harry inspected the gate and its lock, then whispered, "Damn good lock. It might be easier to cut a hole in the fence, but that'll be more noticeable when there's light. What should I do?"
"Whatever's quickest. By the time there's light everyone in the country will know." Bob took out his wire cutters and started in.
Room G-44 was in a temporary building constructed in the glory days of the 1950s. Like the engineering room on Thunder Ridge, it had space for far more desks and drawing boards than it held. Even so, many of the desks seemed unused.
A bank of three security cabinets stood against one wall. Harry went over and rubbed his hands in anticipation. "The middle one," he said. He ostentatiously took out a nail file and began to rub it over his fingertips. "No sandpaper--"
"Harry, damn it, get on with it," Needleton whispered. "Right." Harry opened the tool kit and took out a drill, pliers, crowbar. "Well--here goes--but you know, just in case--"
"What?"
Harry pulled on the drawer. It opened.
"Like I said, just in case. And there's your gizmo, I think." He lifted' out a plastic box and set it on the desk. "Let's see--"