"Now," he said briskly to his astounded men, his voice crackling with authority, "take stations.

"Dr. Schmidt will key in the number one laser bank only. You will select as your target area that area through which the pa.s.senger spokes of the wheel pa.s.s. These will each in turn be your targets if it becomes necessary to fire.

"Dr. Schmidt has advised me that, should it become necessary to fire on the hub, the resultant explosion of the shielding water will wreck the big wheel.

"If we should miss and hit the rim, the resultant explosion would inevitably wreck both the big wheel and Project Hot Rod.

"Therefore, gentlemen, I caution the most accurate possible aim.

"And Dr. Schmidt, will you connect the storage power supply you have readied, please?"

Quickly then, he slid into the communications officer's seat, as the Security officers a.s.sumed each of the four major posts of the project, while Chauvenseer took up a stance at his general's right hand, ready to respond as directed.

On the bridge, Captain Nails had been annoyed. Too many queries from people who really didn't have authority over his satellite. Too many directives and counter-directives were flooding at him from various officials on Earth.

Some one down there even had the temerity to suggest that Security take over--not officially, just sort of take over.

If that didn't take the cake, he thought. Trying to put that crumb Security officer into command, _real_ command, of a scientist? Over HIS people? Never!

And just because somebody had a wild idea about sabotage--after all, the whole thing must be some sort of effect or accident. Why couldn't they leave people alone long enough to find out what was really going on?

And where was Elbertson, anyhow? The man had had plenty of time to freshen up. Possibly he had caved in some place. The medic had said he was sick. But even so, I'd best check, he thought.

Reaching for the intercom switch that would give him a private line to Security quarters in the rim, his gaze happened to fall on the panel that still displayed Hot Rod on its taut cable--

--And seven figures riding the end of the cable to the air lock.

Elbertson, of course, he thought furiously. And taking his men out when the proton level was still too high to go beyond the rim shielding....

Then the captain stopped in mid-thought. This was no idle act of a man feeling the effects of drugs.

He switched the intercom quickly to the Hot Rod crew's quarters on the rim. "Dr. Koblensky!" he almost shouted into the mike.

"Just a minute, sir," came the answer, and seconds that seemed like eternities pa.s.sed before the doctor's calm voice answered, "Dr.

Koblensky speaking."

"Did you know that seven men were going out to Hot Rod?"

"Of course not. They mustn't...."

The captain switched off and changed to the intercom for the machine shop. "Dr. Ishie. Mr. Blackhawk. To the bridge on the double. _Fast_,"

he said.

It might not be the saboteur, he thought, but the chances looked grimly real that Earth was right--that the whole thing was sabotage, and those were the seven saboteurs. While he waited, he checked the Security quarters for Elbertson. The major was not there, nor was he in the hospital.

Elbertson, he thought. I've been blind.

He decreased the magnification of Hot Rod so that the entire project showed.

Mike arrived first, almost skidding to a stop at the captain's console, Ishie right behind him.

"The saboteur--seven men that I believe to be saboteurs--are aboard Hot Rod," the captain told him crisply. "Can they activate it?"

"Captain, there's no saboteur...." Mike began, but the captain interrupted.

"Gentlemen, I'm not asking you to be the judge of that. If they are saboteurs, is there any way that they can activate Hot Rod?"

"Oh, they could have storage batteries aboard, I suppose." Mike didn't even pretend to be excited.

"Then we will a.s.sume they have, Mr. Blackhawk." The tone of the captain's voice told Mike he'd better darned well believe in those saboteurs or tell the captain the truth--and that quickly. "Now, a.s.suming Hot Rod can be activated, we will also a.s.sume that their first aim will be to control the wheel. They would, therefore, aim at the hub and issue an ultimatum."

"They might aim at a target on Earth, and issue an ultimatum to us."

Mike would play the game.

"No. We would refuse such an ultimatum. They would aim at us. Can you prevent that?"

Mike thought hard. He'd better come up with an answer to that one, saboteurs or no.

"If they shot through the hub, they'd hit our shielding water and explode the hub-hull. That would wreck the wheel, and they'd need the wheel. The only place they could safely shoot us would be the pa.s.senger spokes, and that would take some pretty fine target shooting--with only one laser bank. They could do it though," he said thoughtfully.

"a.s.sume, Mr. Blackhawk, that if they couldn't hit the pa.s.senger spokes, they'd be willing to destroy the wheel in order to gain control. Is there any way to prevent that?"

Mike stood completely silent for almost a minute. Then he grinned.

"Sure," he said. "If we turned the rim towards Hot Rod, they couldn't fire into the rim without hitting that shielding--and that would create an explosion, even from their smallest possible shot, that would almost inevitably take Hod Rod with it. If we turn the lab so that only the rim is towards Hot Rod, it's suicide to shoot us."

"You will swing the rim of the wheel into that alignment as rapidly as it can possibly be done." The captain's voice practically lifted the two men off the bridge, and they were on their way to the engineering quarters with every appearance of the urgency they should have felt if they had not known who--or rather what--was the real saboteur.

Then Mike heard Ishie's soft voice from behind him, slightly breathless. "At that, you'd better swing the rim and swing her fast, Mike. The captain sure 'nuff believes in his saboteurs, and it's just possible they're real."

O.K., thought Mike, and really moving now he reached the engineering quarters a good ten strides ahead of his companion.

As he entered the open bulkhead lock he saw a man that he recognized as one of the Security personnel, and brushing on past him said, "If you want to see me, come back later. I'm going to be very busy here for a while."

Mike headed for the panel that controlled the air jets and other devices that spun the wheel.

The Security man didn't hesitate. Seeing the ship's engineer about to make important--and possibly subversive--adjustments, he drew his needle gun and aimed it squarely at Mike's back. "Halt--in the name of Security!" he barked.

Slowly Mike swung around, eying the man coldly, and began a question.

But there was no need. Dr. Chi Tung, having seen what was going on through the lock before he entered, had held back just long enough for the Security man to turn fully towards Mike. Now he launched himself through the lock like a small but well-guided missile, and arriving on the Security guard's back, had his gun-arm down and half broken before the man knew what was happening. Had he been alone, it is possible that the larger man might have won. But Mike had never been fond of people who pulled guns on him, even if they were only sleepy guns.

Between the two of them, the Security guard was lucky not to lose his life in the first two seconds of battle.

The conflict ended almost before it had begun, with a meaty slap of Mike's fist connecting with the man's jaw, right below the ear. It hadn't been a clean punch, Mike thought, but then he wasn't really used to fighting in this gravity. Anyhow, the man was out.