our check to the traffic-control
center, I believe?"

"Yes, sir," gulped Roger. The full realization of what he had done was
beginning to dawn on him.

"And you've tampered with vital station equipment for your own personal
use," added Connel. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach,
Roger noticed the major was strangely quiet in his interrogation. It
felt like the calm before the storm.

"Yes, sir," admitted Roger, "I changed several circuits."

"Are you aware of the seriousness of your negligence, Manning?" Connel's
voice began to harden.

"Yes--yes--I guess so, sir," stumbled Roger.

"Can you repair that radar so that it can be used as it was intended?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then do so immediately. There are ships in flight depending on your
information and signals."

"Yes, sir," said Roger quietly. Then he added quickly, "I'd like the
major to know, sir, that this is the first time this has happened."

"I have only your word for that, Manning!" Connel finally began blasting
in his all too familiar roar. "Since you've done it once, I see no
reason to think you couldn't have done it before or that you might not
do it again!" The officer's face was now almost purple with rage. "When
you've repaired that set, return to your quarters! You are confined
until I decide on disciplinary action!"

Turning abruptly, Connel stormed out of the room, slamming the hatch
closed behind him.

With a sigh Roger turned back to the set. With trembling fingers he
reconnected the terminals and made delicate adjustments on the many
dials. Finally, as power began to flow through the proper chain of
circuits, the radar scanner glowed into life and the hair-thin line of
light swept around the dull green surface of the scope. It had been left
on a setting covering two hundred miles around the space station, and
seeing the area was clear, Roger increased the range to five hundred
miles. The resulting scan sent a sudden chill down his spine. A
spaceship was roaring toward the station at full thrust!

Cold sweat beaded Roger's forehead as he grabbed for the microphone and
called Tom.

"Radar bridge to control deck!" The words tumbled out frantically. "Tom!
Tom! There's a ship heading right for the station! Bearing 098! Distance
450 miles! Coming in on full thrust! Tom, acknowledge! Quick!"

Down on the control deck, Tom had been watching a space freighter easing
out of the station when Roger's voice came over the speaker in a