she finally fell to Earth. If she fell into the ocean, that would be bad enough; but if she hit a populated area....

Fortunately, by that time her velocity would be considerably cut down; if she were to hit the atmosphere with her present velocity, the shock wave alone would be disastrous.

"Okay," said MacIlheny at last. "Notify every observatory within sight range of her orbit! Keep a check on her every foot of the way! We'll have to send up a drone."

"Right!" There was a subdued click as Masterson hung up.

MacIlheny turned. Blake was standing beside him. "I've got White Sands on the line, Mac."

MacIlheny flashed an appreciative grin. "Thanks, Blake." He went to Blake's office and closed the door. In the screen of the visiphone, he saw the face of Paul Loch, of Commercial Rockets, Inc., White Sands.

"How's it going, Mac?" Loch asked. "I understand you're having trouble with Number Four."

"It's worse than just trouble, Paul," MacIlheny told him. He carefully explained what had happened.

Loch nodded. "Looks rough. What do you figure on doing?"

"How much will it cost me to rent one of your RJ-37 jobs with a drone robot in it?"

"Fully fueled?" Loch thought a moment, then named a figure.

"That's pretty steep," MacIlheny objected.

Loch spread his hands. "Actually, it's just a guess; but I'm pretty sure we won't be able to get insurance on her for something like this. What do you plan to do?"

"I want to take an RJ-37 up there to Number Four and use it to put the satellite back in a safe orbit. It'll have to be done quickly or we'll lose the satellite and a few thousand square miles of Earth."

Loch paused again, turning the idea over in his mind. MacIlheny said nothing; he knew how the mind of Paul Loch worked. Finally, Loch said: "Tell you what; get the Government to underwrite the insurance, and we'll give you the RJ-37 at cost. Fair enough?"

MacIlheny nodded. "Get her ready. If the President won't okay the insurance, we'll have to pay the extra tariff. We absolutely can't afford to 

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