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Updated: May 12, 2025
"What's the trouble?" growled Connel, noticing Hemmingwell's growing nervousness. "The homing ring on number six tube isn't working properly," replied Hemmingwell. "I can't control the projectile." "Any idea what's wrong?" the Solar Guard officer asked. "The settings on the ring must be wrong." The professor picked up the intercom mike. "Dave," he called, "check in!"
Finally, in a last desperate attempt, he ignored Hemmingwell's order and appealed to Commander Walters. "No, Lou. I cannot order men to take that ship up," Commander Walters replied, "and you know it!" "Why not?" argued Connel. "You're the commander, aren't you?"
"All right," he said. "I'll take you up on that." Barret grinned, stuck out his hand, and after a friendly shake turned and ran to the professor's office. Connel walked back to the outside of the hangar and began bellowing orders for the giant ship to be brought out to the blast ramp and prepared for the blast-off. But Dave Barret did not go directly to Professor Hemmingwell's office.
"Do you think it was sabotage, sir?" asked Strong, as they rode on the slidewalk. "I don't know, Steve," said the commander. "If that special unit of Hemmingwell's had been damaged, I would say it might have been an accident. But the things that were damaged would have put the whole works out of commission if we didn't have that unit." "Yes, sir," said Strong grimly.
They only averaged some two to three hours of sleep per day. They were dead tired but they stuck to their task doggedly, without complaint. Around them, the work on Professor Hemmingwell's project had proceeded with amazing speed.
"Yes, sir," replied Strong, but not with the conviction he would like to have felt. Pat Troy had been Professor Hemmingwell's foreman for nearly two years. It was his job to read the complicated blueprints and keep the construction and installation work proceeding on schedule.
He needed both men, both being excellent in their respective fields, and found it more and more difficult to maintain any kind of peaceful relationship between them. Barret, as Hemmingwell's chief assistant and supervisor of the project, was naturally superior in rank to Troy, and made the most of it.
"I'm afraid I don't have the strength to withstand all this excitement," he said. "But now I understand why things were never easy for me. Carter Devers he did this to me. He blocked the proposals every time that they were submitted to the Solar delegations. He " Hemmingwell's head fell back. Roger had put a sedative into the water and the old man was now unconscious.
"What do you mean, Dave?" asked Hemmingwell. "I depend a great deal on instinct," replied Barret. "And as good as Troy's work has been, I feel the man is hiding something." "Come now, Dave," snorted the professor. "I've known him a long time. I think you're being a little harsh." As Barret shrugged and didn't reply, a troubled expression crossed Hemmingwell's face.
Professor Hemmingwell's voice rang over the roar of activity in the hangar as the huge new control panel was lifted along the hull to a large hole that had been cut into the side of the experimental ship at the control-deck level. "Easy does it!" called the professor, standing on the deck and peering through the hole. "Careful now!"
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