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Five-thirty.

Boz brought the silver space-suit, which he had unpacked during the night, and helped MKG into it as we moved along. He laid the silver helmet on the thwart-stark, futuristic, against the weather-stained wood. The dawn light glowed on its gold-plated visor which would guard MKG's face against the sun.

The cutter chugged on.

Six o'clock.

Three hours to launch.

Try the radio,' Peace told Adele.

The Navy wavelength said,. Love-Apple Crossing

Involuntarily Peace jerked the throttle. There was nothing more. He glanced skywards and said harshly, Keep it going,

Adele!'

The minute* dragged; the engine throbbed. Love-Apple Crossing had almost submerged its low length into the sea barely two short miles behind. We had about half a mile to go to the launching-point.

The radio said:

Willowtrack to all Red and Blue HUK subs x report your positions to me x'

Six-thirty.

The voice went on:

' My position Grid E-13 approximately 40 miles due south of Love-Apple Crossing x course zero-zero-five true x speed 12 knots, rigged for utra-quiet x'

My God!' exclaimed Peace. I explained to the tense team:

Tyler was 40 miles away, making straight at us, coasting along with all his listening apparatus and radar going. At 12 knots he would be on us in three hours. If he received an inkling of where we were, he could reach us in an hour at maximum speed, if he chose!

I gave Peace an alteration of course. Boz and the team screwed up their eyes against the sun, scanning the horizon to the south, not speaking. The light reflected off MKG'S spacesuit. Seven o'clock.

Stop!' I ordered.

We were in position.

I'll flood her down at once, Boz,' said MKG. There's no point in staying up. In one hour I shall start the sequencer. Shall we synchronize watches?'

The simple action had all the excitement of a war mission.

Little Bear, with its tapered stern, lay like a giant ray in the water.

Boz picked up the helmet.

PacG stopped him for a moment and surveyed the soft scene, the sea, the low isle in the distance. He looked from one to another of us. My secret thundered like St Brandon surf against my brain-I had to tell him! I glanced round. Mac alone of us was sitting, cigarette in mouth, his hand half under the stern thwart where he kept the Remington. He looked like a snake about to strike. I felt Peace's hand grip my elbow like steel.

MKG waved at Little Bear and the sky., ' This will bring out 214 that great untested source of power in the American people which Lincoln saw over a century ago,' he said. ' It has been given to me to be the bearer of that sacred mission'

Lincoln!' whispered Adele. President Lincoln..

MKG did not seem to hear. The strange timbre laced his words. There are no goodbyes in this. Adele, say also to

Andre..

He paused, then impulsively took the old fisherman's arm in Andre's own peculiar grip, and shook it. Tears ran down the mahogany cheeks and he said something brokenly to

Adele.

Adele, her voice thick with emotion, said: 'God be with you. Come back to Limuria.

Boz held out the helmet to MKG. MKG looked quickly in a pocket and brought out a small bible, as if to reassure himself. The scene had a curious unreal air-like a condemned cell, where all normal activity goes on around in a highly abnormal context.

Once the helmet was on, we knew MKG'S voice would become a metallic counterfeit. MKG moved forward to Boz and ducked a little. Boz lifted on the helmet and gave it a half-turn. Boz and the Texan helped him, ungainly now, through the missile's hatchway. He eased himself in and dogged it closed.

MKG was utterly alone.

There was a burp of water at the stern as the ballast pumps started. The missile tilted, its nose at an angle. Then it sank upright to about two-thirds of its length. Boz and the scientists nodded approval. MKG sat in his capsule about 12 feet above us. I think it must have been the bright flash of sunlight on the perspex which brought the frigate-bird down to investigate. I heard the swift rush of wings.

Like lightning, Peace snatched an oar and struck the magnificent bird. It fell, stunned, into the water. Little Bear, on hand signals from Boz to MKG, sank lower until it was the height of a man out of the water.

With a quick glance at Andre, Peace grabbed the bird

Little Bear was head-high.

MKG looked out at us-grave, a slight smile in the deep-set eyes.

Peace snatched the axe from the bottom-boards and struck off the great bird's head. Boz and his team gaped in astonishment. Peace leaned out, holding the twitching stump, steadying himself against the smooth whiteness of the missile casing.

With the bloodied neck, Peace made the sign of the Cross on it.

Adele gave a gasp. There was a startled outburst from

Andre. Boz gave a quick signal to MKG. I heard the rapid whirr of the ballast pumps. MKG raised a gloved hand and gave the thumbs-up sign, his eyes fixed on us all.

The capsule-shield sank to gunwale-level.

Adele translated Andre automatically: The strange ship has a life now..

Another signal. The pumps whirred. I looked down into MKG's strong face. Was he already President of the United

States?

The eyes went for the last time slowly from Peace to me, to Boz, to each member of the team, to Adele, momentarily to

Mac, and finally to Adele. Boz raised his clenched fist as a signal. MKG reached out for a switch.

The capsule vanished.

I do not know how long we all stood numbed, trying to follow the missile into the depths. Adele wept; Peace held the headless bird. The sea was empty, except for the tiny cutter. Only at firing-depth would MKG send up the marker buoy with its radio antenna.

Boz said at last, Commander, we must get at least half a mile away-probably a bit farther is better.'

Seven-thirty.

Let's wait for the buoy,' I said.

No time,' replied Boz. We must get clear.'

Rather than create sound by using the engine, Peace had

Andre raise the lateen sail and we glided across the still sea. The sole marker off Little Bear was a group of frigate-birds tearing at their dead companion.

Andre dropped the sail at Peace's command. The buoy where was the buoy? Adele explained to Andre, whose seasight was keenest. We waited.

Suddenly Andre exclaimed: the bright orange marker with its radio antenna plopped out of the sea. Boz slipped on one of the double rubber-padded headphones of the vu set and fiddled with the dials; the other scientists busied themselves with the DATICO gear.

I'll repeat everything MKG says,' said Boz.

Peace turned to Adele, his voice strained. Keep the radio going all the time. Check Tyler.'

His words were drowned. The big vP-5 swept over us at wave-top height. The thunder of its four great engines momentarily blanked out the radio. It came so low that I could 216 see the massive search radar dome, the pilot and the co-pilot in their seats. It was still in Arctic paint, broad orange stripes against the black hull.

The voice on the radio was vibrant with excitement:

VP-5 maritime reconnaissance Baker Charley Sugar to all HUK and ASW forces x powerful MAD contacts Grid position E-13 x sighted submarine marker buoy approxi- mately 2f miles east Love-Apple Crossing x men in boat using radio x marker buoy has radio antenna x The reply was immediate:

Willowtrack to Baker Charley Sugar x hold that contact x am vectoring all HUK forces to Grid E-13 x home them in x am proceeding maximum speed to evaluate contact x

I looked at my watch.

One hour and five minutes!

Willowtrack was 40 miles away: she could do near 40 knots when pushed-Tyler would be here before MKG blasted off!

Peace's face was like iron. He knelt next to Boz and said into his chest microphone speaker. 'MKG! For Christ's sake, there's a vp-5 overhead. They've picked up this transmission. Tyler's coming-can't you cut it short-'