o know that there
might be a possible defense to that Bomb. I watched Stein scratch his
back against a projecting steel rib as the Smith strolled absently out
of nowhere. Stein straightened sheepishly, and the old man smiled.

"Ready?"

Why not? I gave him the same answer as before. "Ready as I ever will
be."

He handed me a pair of glasses, 7 x 50. "The drone ship took off ten
minutes ago. Look due north--no, north is that way--and whenever it
comes into whatever you consider your range--"

"Bingo!"

"Bingo!" He liked that. "When you fire it--"

"You mean, _if_ I fire it."

"If you fire it, just before, you slide the filters over the ends of
your binoculars like so. Or better still, turn your back."

Turn my back? I wanted to see what was going to happen.

"All right, but make sure you get those filters down in time." He
cocked an ear as someone shouted something that was carried away in
the freshening breeze. "Must have picked it up with radar. Let's see
if we can find it," and together we set to sweeping the northern
horizon.

Radar must have been sharp that day, because the drone, a battered
B-24, was right on top of us before we picked it up, a mote in the
sun's brazen eye. A flurry of orders relayed to the control ship sent
it soaring back into the distance, a mile or so high. Just at the
limit of visibility I used the corner of my mouth to Smith.

"Hold your breath and help me out." Maybe he did, at that. "Motors.
I'll try to get the motors first."

* * * * *

The slapping of the salty waves against the cruiser's armored hull
seemed to pause in midstride. Nothing happened--nothing, until the
waves, with a frustrated sigh, gave in and began again their toppling
roll and hiss. Then slowly, ever so slowly, so faintly that it was
only a speck in the sky, the distant dot tilted and hung suspended on
a wingtip, hung, hung, hung.... A jerk, and a warped spiral. My ears
rang, and the falling leaf, now swooping and sailing in agonized
humpbacked scallops, seemed to double and triple in my tear-swimming
eyes. Then I tried--

There was no sound. There was no booming roar, no thunder. But I
forgot to yank down those dark filters over the ends of the Zeiss.
They had told me that it would be like looking at the sun. Well, the
sun won't throw you flat on your back, or maybe I fell. Not quite
flat; Smith threw a block as I reeled, and held me upright. I tried to
tell him that I