The martini warmed him—that, and the girl's presence. She reawakened all the old longing in him, filled him with dull anger at the way the past three years had been pulled from him—years he could have spent wed to Janet.

But she had broken the engagement, she had wanted no part of a seemingly incurable alcoholic. She was too good for him. He wondered how she'd feel if he told her he was also a fugitive from the jetgang belowdecks.

"What are you doing here on the Wheel yourself?" he asked.

Lowering her voice, she said, "I'm here with Dad. He's conducting a top-secret hush-hush investigation."

"Oh? Can you tell an old friend?"

She smiled sadly. "I really can't. It's upper-security doubleplus, if you know what I mean."

He chuckled. "You really take your job seriously. I mean, if you can't tell—"

Reddening, she said, "Oh, okay, Dave. I guess you'll find out one way or another anyway. There's been a rumor that a saboteur's aboard the Space-Station."

"What?" He started from his seat. "Then why'd he bring you here?"

"Shh! It's not dangerous here—this is the safest place. The rumor says the saboteur's going to get control of the satellite and bomb Earth! Washington's supposed to be first target!"

Conroy felt the color drain from his face. When they had built the satellite, this fear had been in everyone's mind—that, despite the world peace that prevailed, someday an alien power might use the satellite as an instrument of destruction. And now—

"You sure of this?"

"We're not sure of anything. That's why Dad's here. It's awfully dangerous, but as one of the Space Commissioners it's his responsibility to check on it. And he brought me along in case it was true; he didn't want me down in Washington if it was going to be bombed."

He leaned closer; the drink had gone to work, stirring his insides, warming him, emboldening him. "I'm glad he came here and brought you along," he said. "Janet—"

"Please, Dave."

"Don't say it that way! I—"

He paused, feeling a hand on his 

 Prev. P 8/13 next