I saw how they hung the beam-director
way out in front on those little old balloon-poles. They've got 'em
bent, and if any one or two of 'em should happen to get punctured, the
other two would move the mirror complete out of the laser beam focus.
Then the only thing they could shoot would be the sun--and I don't
think it'd care.

"Ishie, you stay here just to keep the home fires burning and make
sure that nobody fiddles with anything we don't want 'em to. All of
the bulkheads leading into this section can be locked from the
inside--a feature I haven't seen fit to point out to other people who
really don't need to know."

* * * * *

Walking around the floor, Mike carefully secured the four bulkheads,
two leading back to the morgue; two leading forward to the north pole
end of the hub. And then, jumping catlike upward and grasping the
access ladder to the central axis tube, he carefully bolted that one,
too.

[Illustration]

Dropping back to the floor he stepped over to the intercom and
switched in Captain Nails' circuit.

"Mission accomplished, sir. And you were quite right. One of our
_Security_ servos is off balance. I'm attending to the matter."

"Thank you, Mr. Blackhawk." The captain's voice was calm, quite unlike
the voice he'd used to them on the bridge. "You would do well to
listen for the ... sound ... of those servos." The captain's voice
stopped but the intercom continued to hum, alive from his end.

"Ishie," said Mike, "the captain's in trouble, and he's asking us to
listen in on what goes on the bridge. He's left his intercom open.

"Now I've got a mission to accomplish; and you can't leave here,
because this post's got to be operational. But you can listen and do
whatever the captain tells you.

"And, Ishie--if anybody takes the bridge away from the captain, you
tell the Cow not to obey any orders or answer any questions unless
they come from here."

With that, Mike leaned over, loosened an inspection plate in the
floor, and climbed down a ladder through the inspection tube that led
through the six feet of normal-shield water directly beneath the floor
into the seventeen-foot flare-shielding chamber beyond. This was the
tank which surrounded the hub and held all of the waters of the rim
during flare conditions; but was now holding only the air supply
which, during a flare, was pumped to the rim.

Making his way back towards the center of the hub, Mike considere