Mr. Jordan, that you are
suggesting that this symbol, this quintessence of an historic and
magnificent era in mankind's history ... this unique and precious object
... should be allowed to destroy itself and be lost forever?

_Mr. J:_ (squirming) Senator, there are dozens of those things up there.
Every year one or two burns up. They have no usefulness. They're a
menace to navigation. I ...

_Senator D:_ (interrupting loudly) Mr. Jordan, what was the date of your
appointment to your present position?

_Mr. J:_ April 11, 2138.

_Senator D:_ Do you consider yourself fully qualified to hold this
august position?

_Mr. J:_ (tight lipped) Senator, I am a graduate of the Administrative
Academy, the Logistics Staff School, and I have 31 years seniority in my
department. Furthermore ...

_Senator D:_ (banging his gavel) Mr. Jordan, please! Try to remember
where you are! We had enough trouble yesterday with witnesses before
this committee. There will be no more of it. And Mr. Jordan, while it
may be true that your technical qualifications for serving in your
present position may be adequate, it is clear to me and, I am sure,
apparent to other members of this committee that your feeling for
history and the relation of this problem to the destiny of the human
race leave much to be desired. And, Mr. Jordan, may I emphasize ...
_these_ are the things that count in the long, long haul!

* * * * *

Jordan sat limply at his desk, his hands hanging loosely at his sides.
"It's unbelievable," he muttered dully. "Where did this man Darius come
from?"

"It doesn't matter much," Clements answered unsympathetically. "It's
where he is now that counts."

Jordan shook his head.

"There has to be a way out. A clean, quick way out."

After a moment's thought Clements said, "Isn't there a regulation about
orbital debris?"

Jordan nodded dully. "Someplace. Number 710.1, I think. Hasn't been
invoked in years. Once they stopped using chemical fuels, we stopped
having wrecks."

"Still," Clements went on more eagerly, "Beta's really a piece of
debris, isn't it? It's not working or transmitting or whatever it was
supposed to do, is it?"

"No." Jordan shrugged impatiently. "But, good grief, this thing isn't
debris. Debris is ... is big _chunks_ of things; broken up space
stations, or ... or nuclear engines and things like that."

"Hell, no, chief," yelled Clements, jumping to his feet. "This is
debris