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The whole place was in utter pandemonium.

The technicians had deserted their useless sets and, joined by the armed guards, were screaming and fighting through the enveloping smoke, anxious only to get clear and away from the underground compartment before the whole base caught fire and trapped them. That sight of their leader frying to death in his own power bay, like an ox dangling from some sacrificial altar, had finally unnerved them and there was no thought whatever of running out the firefighting equipment that must surely be available. This was panic, red and raw.… Shaw began to move back towards the microphone, dragging Rencke with him. He hadn’t quite got there when from somewhere out of the smoke and the encroaching flames a disembodied voice came to him — from some radio receiver, a monitoring set, perhaps, that was still operating. The voice was American and it was hoarse and shocked and disbelieving.

It said, “Oh, God, we’ve lost the whole ball of wax. She’s a red-hot molten lump… those guys just fried, up there.” That was all; the set didn’t come alive again. Shaw’s face was white, drained of blood; his mind felt drained of emotion. He saw the sudden look of pity on Ingrid’s face and he thought dully, I’m all washed up now… they’d better find me a soft number back home, clerking in the Ministry. This is all the good I’ve been.…

* * *

Up in Skyprobe IV the end had been mercifully fast.

Schuster had very suddenly noticed a strange overheating of the air inside the capsule, something that almost at once became unbearable, and that was all. He and Wayne Morris and Danvers-Marshall had died before the instrument panel had begun to melt and the metal of the contour seats had started to run; they were already incinerated when, inside the next split second, the fuel cell went up and the spacecraft simply fell inwards. So they never knew about the final act and never knew that their bodies had been cremated or that their remains were now embedded for all time in the molten structure of their craft; for when the heat came off, the metal began to cool and the solid lump dropped, all forward motion gone now, dropped like a huge stone and went sizzling into the Pacific just beyond Howland Island.

* * *

Rencke had taken his chance when Shaw’s grip started to slacken after that American broadcast. The Swiss rammed his head backwards and took Shaw hard in the teeth, then tore away from his grasp, turned, and gave him a heavy knee-jab in the pit of his stomach. When Shaw had got his wind back Rencke had vanished out of the door, which was only just visible now through the clouds of smoke.

Ingrid took Shaw’s arm. She was choking. With tears running down her cheeks she said, “Smith, you could not know! You must not take any blame for yourself. At least you have stopped any secrets falling into these men’s hands. You must think of this, not of what happened up there.”

Unsteadily he said, “It’s no use. I killed them and that’s it.”

“Smith… you must not give up!”

“Don’t worry,” he said in a flat voice. “I won’t give up, not yet. I have to get you away from here, for one thing. Meanwhile, there’s something I have to see to. While I’m doing it, get dressed.”

As the girl started to pull on the Chinese clothing again, Shaw went back to the broadcaster he had used earlier and snapped the switch over; the transmitter might or might not be still alive but he had to try. Into the microphone he said, “This is Shaw calling… Shaw calling London and Washington from the Sea of Okhotsk. Believe me, I’m… sorry… for what happened. Desperately sorry.” His voice choked, then he went on more strongly, “This is vital. I urge immediate repeat immediate stand-down of all retaliatory measures. Base is in unidentified island inside the main Kurile group. I know this is Russian territory… but the Russian Government is definitely not repeat not concerned. I stress this. What happened was horrible… but it must not be made an excuse for a shooting war. Moscow has never been behind this. The man wholly responsible on his own initiative was the defecting Russian scientist Kalitzkin. I urge most strongly that the US and British Governments accept this without question, and that aircraft be flown in peacefully to the Kuriles soonest possible.”

Shaw let go the switch. His eyes streaming from the smoke he said to Ingrid, “At least I’ve helped to stop a war. Maybe. Now let’s get out of here.”

Her eyes were bright with more than the tears from the smoke as she came close and looked into his face. “Take care of yourself, Smith!” she said. “Pull yourself together. There is still Rencke.”

He nodded. “I know. I’ll take care — and of you too. Keep close, but keep behind me unless I tell you different. That’s an order.” He gave a bitter laugh. “You said once that you liked being taken charge of. I don’t know if I’m the one to do it, though.”

“Yes, Smith!” Her eyes searched his face. “Oh, Smith, you must not take this too badly—”

“Save your breath!” he snapped back at her. He took her arm, moved for the doorway. “Remember we haven’t got unlimited time if you want to fulfil your ambition to kill Rencke.”

They ran ahead through the smoke, and out of the blazing control room. They headed to their right, with the smoke pouring out behind them, running on round the deserted passage until they hit the steps leading upward to the fresh air and the biting cold. No-one had bothered to close the sealing doors at the top — no doubt the operator had run with the rest. As Shaw and the girl came out with the smoke billowing in their wake they saw the running men clearing the area as fast as they could go, the last of them streaming panic-stricken out of a gateway in the wire perimeter fence, possibly fearing some explosion down below that would rip the surface apart.

Behind the running technicians was the bulky figure of Rudolf Rencke.

Shaw called, “Rencke!

Rencke looked back over his shoulder.

In the day’s full light his face was murderous. From somewhere he had got hold of another gun, a sub-machine-gun, and now, suddenly, he checked himself. He crouched, and fired in a swinging arc. Shaw grabbed Ingrid and pulled her to the ground. Bullets whistled past Shaw’s ears— Rencke was rattled now, too insanely furious to take good aim.