were beginning to show less and less progress
in the basic research, and more and more progress in repairing damaged
equipment. Apparently, though, increasing efficiency in repair work
was self-neutralizing; repairing an instrument in half the time merely
meant that it could break down twice as often.

It had to be sabotage. And yet, not even the S.M.M.R. agents could
find any trace of intentional damage nor any thought patterns that
would indicate deliberate damage.

And Senator John Peter Gonzales quite evidently did _not_ want to face
the implications of _that_ particular fact.

"We're going to have to send an agent in," Taggert repeated.

(_That's my cue_, thought the young man on the fifth floor as he
crushed out his cigarette and got up from the chair.)

"I don't know how we're going to manage it," said the senator. "What
excuse do we have for putting a new man on the Redford team?"

Brian Taggert grinned. "What they need is an expert repair
technician--a man who knows how to build and repair complex research
instruments. He doesn't have to know anything about the purpose of the
team itself, all he has to do is keep the equipment in good shape."

Senator Gonzalez let a slow smile spread over his face. "You've been
gulling me, you snake. All right; I deserved it. Tell him to come in."

As the door opened, Taggert said: "Senator Gonzales, may I present Mr.
David MacHeath? He's our man, I think."

* * * * *

David MacHeath watched a blue line wriggle its way erratically across
the face of an oscilloscope. "The wave form is way off," he said
flatly, "and the frequency is slithering all over the place."

He squinted at the line for a moment then spoke to the man standing
nearby. "Signal Harry to back her off two degrees, then run her up
slowly, ten minutes at a time."

The other man flickered the key on the side of the small
carbide-Welsbach lamp. The shutters blinked, sending pulses of light
down the length of the ten-foot diameter glass-walled tube in which
the men were working. Far down the tube, MacHeath could see the
answering flicker from Harry, a mile and a half away in the darkness.

MacHeath watched the screen again. After a few seconds, he said:
"O.K.! Hold it!"

Again the lamp flashed.

"Well, it isn't perfect," MacHeath said, "but it's all we can do from
here. We'll have to evacuate the tube to get her in perfect balance.
Tell Harry to knock off for the day.