? He watched in silence as Arnold
consulted the micro-chron and jotted more notes. _Rej. Q-9 (code): (.008
synap. circ.): 11:23 A.M._

Beardsley wandered again, watching the techs. A sudden shivering seized
him. How could they remain so calm? Were they so close to the forest
they couldn't notice? Something was about to happen ... to him it was
unmistakable, in the very atmosphere, sharpened and heightened by the
four walls--a pervading sense of _wrongness_ and a pyramiding tension.

Even Arnold wasn't aware; _audibly_ nothing had changed, as ECAIAC
continued its soft-clicking whisper and the techs methodically checked
the progress tapes. Beardsley stood numbly for a moment, struggling
against a welter of panic. Palms sweating, he moved a safe distance away
and waited.

Eight minutes later came another reject. Six minutes later, the third.
ECAIAC continued its blithe, soft-throated rhythm--but Beardsley was not
fooled.

Someone sent out for coffee. It arrived in steaming thermo-containers.
Beardsley was on his first cup of coffee when rejects 4, 5 and 6 came
through.

He was on his second cup when number 7 ejected, and he had just taken a
last swallow when all hell broke loose.

* * * * *

It wasn't much different from the other rejects. Total silence, every
light in every section red ... trouble was, they couldn't seem to get
together again. Some went back to green, others blinked with ominous
uncertainty, still others said "to hell with it" and exploded in vicious
shards of glass that sprayed across the room. That was only the
beginning. Twenty feet from Beardsley came a louder explosion, a sort of
muffled hissing. He ducked, as a complete bank of transistors zoomed
past his head. From a dozen places along the ninety-foot length angry
trails of smoke poured out. A tech yelled "Damn!" as he pulled back a
burned hand. Sheathes crashed open. Long strands of vari-colored wire
burst out and began a crazy aimless writhing, accompanied by an ominous
buzzing sound as if a swarm of angry metallic bees had escaped. Someone
was yelling, "Master-switch! The master-switch!"

Beardsley saw Arnold leap to the master-switch, where he became
entangled with a tech who was screaming at him, "My God, sir, hurry!
It's BREAKDOWN!"

Cursing, Arnold shoved the man aside and pulled the controls.

But now that it was roused, ECAIAC didn't want to give up so easily.
There came a staccato series of mino