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If Hot Rod itself were actually sabotaged, then the plan must wait until he could have it repaired. He doubted it was hurt. The flare had thrown off all original sequences but perhaps that was to his advantage. To Chauvenseer he snapped: "This is the detail of our immediate operation. Get four of our best men besides yourself.
Johnston and Chauvenseer remained on the bridge another hour, convincing themselves that Mike's analysis was correct, and dictating a report to Earth, before the captain called in an aide to take over the bridge, and the three retired. In the morgue, Dr. Y Chi Tung, who still slept peacefully as he had since the moment he reached his hammock, muttered quietly in his sleep, "Confusion "
We have taken every possible measure to arouse him, as well, and have been unsuccessful." Andersen flipped his switch. "Let me speak to the Hot Rod Security officer," he said briefly. "Chauvenseer speaking, sir," the man's voice came on. "Do you know what the key looks like?" "Yes, sir. It looks somewhat like a common Yale key, sir. But I've never seen another just like it."
Yet now that Hot Rod had proved its power, the time was ripe. It was that proof on which the plan had waited. And perhaps this very sabotage would prove to be the "incident" on which the plan hinged.... Even as he fought to clear his normally organized mind of the weariness of his body that now sapped at its strength, the call came. Chauvenseer appeared at his side, saluting smartly.
Momentarily he sagged against a wall for support, far weaker than he thought possible for a man of his youth and what he thought of as his condition. Making his way almost blindly to Security's quarters in rim-section B-5, he staggered through the door and on towards the latrine, shouting at Chauvenseer to "Get out of that sack and give me a detailed report on events since the flare.
Then he headed for the bridge where Dr. Johnston, Chauvenseer, and the captain had dismissed the others and were utilizing every check that Dr. Johnston could dream up to assure themselves that Hot Rod was actually turned off and would remain secure at least for the duration of the flare; and trying as well to find out just what form the sabotage had taken.
He had heard of the hunt for the key, and been silently amused, though he had volunteered no information to his briefing officer, Chauvenseer. Stepping forward as briskly as a sick rag doll, he fitted the key into the Security lock and snapped open the bar that prevented Hot Rod's use. As the others entered, he turned to them.
Of radiation. The medics put him out." "Who's senior officer here?" "I'm Dr. Johnston." It was a man in front. Rather small, pedantic-looking. "I'm Dr. Koblensky's ... well, assistant." The word came hard as though the fact of an assistantship were at the least distasteful. "Who's senior in Security?" "I, sir. Chauvenseer." "Very well. Dr. Johnston and Chauvens ... sor? ... are in charge.
"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 assumed 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.
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