load of
responsibility, and probably self-imposed guilt on top of it.

The mechanical engineers made their report, followed by the electronic
engineers, followed by the physicist--all negative. But each group had a
suspicion that another had overlooked something. Before it regressed to
a high-school debate, the general bellowed the conference to order.

Grant was surprised at the twinge of emotion he experienced when he
realized the general was not going to ask for a report from syk. Why
should Grant care, anyway? The position meant nothing to him, Syk
Cooerdinator.

It meant something to Bridget, though.

That General Morrison had not even checked for syk findings annoyed
Grant, perhaps. Under the circumstances he was justified: nothing had
yet come out, nothing that Bridget had told Grant, anyway. The general
could not be aware of this. He assumed it. Maybe that's what upset
Grant.

"Then there's this De-Meteor," the general was saying. "I've always been
suspicious of that gadget."

An electronics man spoke up. "A Clary man checked them all, even used
instrument flight to be certain. I was with him and counter-checked the
radar high-speed scanners, the computers, and the course-alteration
mechanism. I was convinced myself it would steer the ship out of any
situation involving the approach of one or two penetrating meteors."

* * * * *

General Morrison turned to the spatialogist. "What about the incidence
of penetrating meteors in the mesosphere?"

"In average fall," the man replied, "fairly low."

"And the probability of encountering three at once along a given atomjet
trajectory?"

"From what limited experiments we have made, the odds would be
astronomical, I'd say."

The general snorted. "Too great to account for three ships, anyway, is
that it?" He soothed his forehead with his big hand. "All right, let's
make another check starting tomorrow morning. More robot-flight tests.
Let's have ships outside the mesosphere operation range. And I want
reports on anything that looks like anything, understand?"

The group emitted a low groan. This was the fourth comprehensive
check--grueling, close, meticulous, nerve-racking work.

From the rear came the voice of a courageous civilian mechanical
engineer, "What about a check on the pilots?"

The sudden silence was like an electrical field. The base commander
continued to shuffle up his notes and papers, but his neck crimsoned.