r on a pole a little farther down the road interrupted the
explanation. "Twenty-five, twenty-five, twenty-five," it shouted.
"Five-nine, eighteen. Five-nine, eighteen. Seventy-three, ten-eight."
It began to repeat the message.

The driver, who had slowed while they listened to the message, turned
the jeep around and sped them back the other way.

"What in Heaven's name was that?" asked the Senator, who was busy
hanging on.

"Twenty-five means emergency," shouted Dr. Brinton. "Five and nine is
fire and explosion in the Fuels Department, which is eighteen.
Seventy-three is my call number and ten-eight means they want me to get
there in a hurry."

For the first time, the Senator looked impressed. Then he grew angry
again when his hat blew off and the driver wouldn't stop to go back and
get it. The jeep took a shortcut across the concrete fence, and left
tire marks in the grass in front of the Fuels Department. Dr. Brinton
jumped out and ran into the building, leaving the Senator to argue with
the driver about going back for the hat.

The lab outside the test room was dusty and littered with broken glass.
Two technicians were receiving first aid for minor cuts, but everyone
else seemed to be in an almost holiday mood.

Dr. Ferber saw Dr. Brinton standing in the doorway and came over to
him immediately.

"That telephone operator gets too excited," he said. "There's no fire,
and I think it was an implosion, not an explosion. Wrecked our new
pressure catalyzer. Harrison's gone to hospital and the two you see are
hurt, but none of it's very serious. I suppose Butcher Boy is going to
put this down in his little notebook, too."

"If you are referring to me," said the Senator's voice behind them, "I
most certainly am going to make a note of it. And I suggest you both
start advertising for other jobs."

* * * * *

Brinton had been indulging in a pleasant little fantasy in which he had
cut Senator MacNeill up into twenty-eight pieces, placed them in
aluminum cans, and made them radioactive in the Station pile. He was
smiling at the newsreel cameras, about to fire the first
Senator-powered spaceship in the history of mankind, when his alarm
clock, which had maliciously been waiting for just such an opportunity,
spoiled his dream by waking him up.

That was how the next day started. It continued in the same vein when,
in a fit of petulance, he strode into his clothes closet and kicked the