was too small for his hand.
When he had wired the contact originally, the chassis had been sitting
in the open on his workbench. Now it was encased in aluminum, except on
the top where he had removed the cover plate.

He was conscious suddenly of a faint hiss. It was so faint that he
didn't even notice it at first. Then, with sudden horror, he realized
what it was. The rocket was striking the atmosphere! There wasn't yet
enough air to act on the control surfaces. But soon the rocket would
enter the denser layers of air and the airfoils would take hold. The
rocket would turn over and plunge nose-down.

With the renewed energy of fear, Rick started to work again. He thrust
his hand into the box, tearing the skin on the metal edge. He couldn't
reach the terminal.

If he could only open the box in some way. But he couldn't do it with
his bare hands. He needed a tool of some kind. He started to search his
pockets and his hand brushed the kit at his belt. The pliers! He had
completely forgotten them. He shook his head, and sweat ran down the
sides of his face.

The rocket continued its rapidly accelerating fall, and heat built up,
even from the thin air at a hundred and twenty miles. At the rocket's
velocity of fall, Rick had less than two minutes to live. Pegasus was
approaching dense air that would heat its skin to incandescence.

With the pliers he tore at the side of the box and managed to chew out a
piece of the thin aluminum. Then he bent back the jagged edges and tried
again. The wire touched the terminal.

Now to hold it in place!

He searched through the tool kit again, but found nothing that was
useful for this purpose. The wire had to be locked in place fairly
tightly, or it would tear loose just from vibration.

Again he flashed the light around, noting absently that he could see
better. Light was diffusing into the cabin now that Pegasus had reached
lower altitude.

The light fell on Prince Machiavelli. The spacemonk was taped tightly.
Instruments were held to his shaven skin by surgical tape. Rick pulled
himself to the monk's side and found an end of tape. It held the
stethoscope. He pulled it free and the monk chattered at him excitedly.

"Sorry, boy," Rick muttered. The side-cutting pliers weren't the best
tools, but he managed to chew off a piece of the tape. It was ragged,
but it would have to do. Holding the piece of tape in the pliers, he
pressed it down against the wire, forcing the wire tip