se silence set in.

When Wayne fought through the layers of renewed pain and opened his
eyes, he was still floating near his makeshift radio equipment in the
laboratory.

Sheilah still hung limply in mid-air near the door. The tubular weapon
wavered near the ceiling. The radio transmitter was still open.

It was just as though he'd been unconscious no more than a few minutes.
But Wayne had a strong feeling that it had been more than that.

Therefore he was only shocked, rather than stunned, when a glance at his
wristwatch indicated six hours and forty minutes had elapsed.

He held his head tightly in both hands to keep it from flying off in all
directions at once, and he tried to think.

He knew it was important to think--fast and straight.

Six hours and forty minutes.

That was too long to be unconscious from a simple blow on the head, and
his head didn't really hurt that bad.

Probably the weapon had still been firing whatever mysterious ammunition
it used when it struck him; and when it bounced off his head it had
turned, and he'd been caught in its blast.

But that didn't matter. That wasn't the important thing.

Six hours and forty minutes he'd been out.

Seven hours!

The Defense Department official he'd spoken to had told him seven hours.

And thank God it wasn't five hours or six, as he'd been urging them to
make it.

Anyway he had only twenty minutes now. Possibly a little more, but just
as likely less.

That realization should have spurred him to instantaneous and heroic
action, but instead it paralyzed him for several minutes. He couldn't
think what to do. He couldn't get his muscles and nerves functioning and
coordinated.

The absence of gravity didn't help. He thrashed about futilely.

But at last, almost by accident, his feet touched a metal support beam,
and he pushed himself toward Sheilah. He grabbed her around the waist
with one arm and with his free hand pulled both of them through the
door.

It seemed a long, long time before he got Sheilah to the reconnaissance
ship. By then the twenty minutes were up. His life was going into
overtime.

Sheilah was conscious but still disorganized and limp, struggling weakly
and ineffectually. Wayne fumbled with the door, got it open and shoved
her inside.

Then he pulled himself in and closed the door.

They might make it yet. They still had a chance.

He studied the control board, deciding on the proper button to push.

From behind