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But the smirk dropped from his face suddenly. Rising over the background chatter of the radio announcements from U.N. Headquarters, came loudly over the ship general intercom the voice of Major Steve Elbertson, counting down through the list of Security personnel. He, too, sat stunned until, as the voice ended "This is war," he came to, stood up needle gun in hand, pointed at the captain.
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.
This separate, low-power control beam, focused on Thule Base nearly eighty miles away from the main focus of Hot Rod on its initial target, carried all of the communications and telemetry necessary for the close co-ordination between Thule and the project. As Elbertson entered, the Hot Rod communications officer was switching each of the control panels in turn to Earth control, while Dr.
Major Elbertson stepped behind him, scanned the switches, inserted his key into the Security lock, and turned it with a final snap, forcing a bar home through the handles of all of the switches to prevent their unauthorized operation by anyone until the official Security key should again release them.
General Steve Elbertson, commanding officer of all space forces of the United Nations Security Forces. "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 passenger spokes of the wheel pass.
"Where is Major Elbertson?" "In sick bay, sir. He got a big radiation dose " The captain flipped the intercom key. "Calling Major Elbertson in sick bay. Report to the bridge on the double, no matter what your condition. This is the captain speaking." The intercom came alive at far end. "This is Dr. Green, Captain Andersen. Major Elbertson is unconscious. He cannot report for duty.
Leaning back in the captain's chair, watching the screen casually, General Elbertson chuckled. He didn't, he noticed, feel nearly so weary. The position actually was good, even if those idiots didn't know what they were doing with the computer. That could be straightened out. Somewhere, he was sure, there was cause for great pride in his actions.
But," he added, glancing only casually at the display on the console, "I can understand the need to sign that warrant, and I shall not quibble." The intercom spoke. "This is Dr. Green, captain. There is no key on the person of Major Elbertson. We have searched thoroughly, sir. I understand the need is of an emergency nature. The key is not on his person.
Instantly, Bessie was on her feet, flinging on clothes, and out down the corridor toward Nails' private stateroom. It had been thirty-two hours since Major General whatever it was Elbertson had been defeated on the bridge for the final time. He and his men were now securely locked in one of the empty labs. The paralysis effect of the needle gun had probably worn off.
"Com Officer Clark, sir, reports a message from Earth. The message, sir. 'Begin Operation Ripe Peach." Major Elbertson pulled himself to a military stance, returning his aide's salute with complete precision. Briefly he considered gathering all his men, all the Security personnel, and storming the bridge. No, obviously the enemy was organized an unforeseen circumstance.
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