"It's there, all right," Tom said. "We're missing something, that's
all."

"But what? Asteroids have stable orbits. Nobody can just make one
disappear...."

They had called it a night, finally.

Once home they found more bad news waiting. There were two messages on
the recordomat. The first was an official summons to appear before the
United Nations Board of Investigations at 9:00 the following morning to
answer "certain charges placed against the above named persons by the
Governing Board of Jupiter Equilateral Mining Industries, and by one
Merrill Tawney, plaintiff, representing said Governing Board." They
listened to the plastic record twice. Then Greg tossed it down the waste
chute.

The other message was addressed to Greg, from the Commanding Officer of
Project Star-Jump. The message was very polite and regretful; it was
also very firm. The pressure of the work there, in his absence, made it
necessary for the Project to suspend Greg on an indefinite leave of
absence. Application for reinstatement could be made at a later date,
but acceptance could not be guaranteed....

"Well, I might have expected it," Greg said, "after what the Major told
us. The money for Star-Jump must have been coming from somewhere, and
now we know where. The company probably figures to lay claim on any
star-drive that's ever developed." He dropped the notice down the chute,
and laughed. "I guess I really asked for it."

"You mean I pushed you into it," Tom said bitterly. "If I'd kept my big
mouth shut at the very start of this thing, you'd have gone back to the
Project and that would have been the end of it...."

* * * * *

Greg looked at him. "You big bum, do you think I really care?" He
grinned. "Don't feel too guilty, Twin. We've been back to back on this
one."

He pulled off his shirt and walked into the shower room. Johnny Coombs
was already stretched out on the sofa, snoring softly.

Quite suddenly the room seemed hot and stuffy, oppressive. He couldn't
make his thoughts come straight. There had been too much thinking, too
much speculation. Tom stood up and slipped on his jacket.

He had to walk, to move about, to try to think. He slipped open the
door, and started for the ramp leading to the Main Concourse.

There was an answer, somewhere.

He walked on along the steel walkways, trying to clear his mind of the
doubts and questions that were plaguing him. At first he just wandered,
but p