minus four minutes. To divert Jordan's
attention Clements suggested that he watch the pilots of the photography
ships who were about to board. With some difficulty Jordan focussed the
instrument and observed the two pilots walk across the apron in front of
the main operations building and climb into their small ships. A blue
halo formed softly around the stern of each as they cut on the engines
and brought them up to idle.

Then suddenly the count was a T minus ten seconds. 9 ... 8 ... 7 ... 6
Jordan thought he was going to faint ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 Zero!

There was a dazzling flash of igniting kerosene and lox which caused
Jordan to jump into the air, a terrible burst of smoke and dust and then
an overwhelming, harsh shattering roar such as had not disturbed
Canaveral Space Port in more than a hundred years.

Deafened Clements looked at Jordan; saw his lips form the work "ker
BOOM."

But in spite of all the evidence to the contrary the Vanguard was off
the launcher, balancing with unbelievable, rocklike steadiness on that
flickering, fiery column. Slowly, almost painfully the thing rose,
gathered speed, pitched slowly eastward and bored triumphantly into the
sky. Beside it, a thousand yards to the north and south, sped the photo
ships, their drive haloes still scarcely brighter than when idling on
the ground. With cameras whirring they escorted '58 Beta into space for
the second time.

There was considerable confusion, some hoarse cheering and a great deal
of milling around. Clements got a grip on Jordan and steered him to the
AstroBar where two quick ones put him back together again.

"Now, what we should do," Clements suggested, "is to go down to the
trajectory section and find out the latest word on the launch analysis."

Jordan hiccupped.

"Why?" he said, a little belligerently. "What's to analyze? We got it
launched, didn't we? What more d'they want? Besides, I like it here."

* * * * *

Forty five minutes later the reports clattered in from Cairo and
Woomera. In the Port Commander's private briefing room a young woman
brought a sheaf of papers to the Commander. He began to read aloud. The
audience leaned forward in strained attention.

"Preliminary flash report on the re-launch of satellite '58 Beta. The
launch phase was eminently successful. The hold at T minus twelve
minutes was not due to any malfunction in the missile itself, but rather
to a disorder of another kind .