Behind the tiredness and the sadness Walter Stanton caught a hint of
strength in the voice that came back.
"To the missile...."
Goldstein hesitated, looked at Walter Stanton.
"Do it, son," said Stanton....
* * * * *
He could never afterwards remember how long he had been sitting at
his desk when Goldstein tapped on the hatch and entered, carrying a
message. The lean youth looked down at him.
"First, sir, I want to say that I understand...."
Walter Stanton looked at him gratefully. "You know it wasn't to save
us.... Just the Platform...."
"I know it, and it took more guts than I've ever seen. But you'll need
guts for this too, sir...."
He handed Stanton the message.
FROM: EARTH CONTROL CENTER
TO: SPACE ONE
SANDIA BASE DESTROYED ENEMY BOMBING ATTACK STAVES
The dull throbbing ache started in his chest, and he knew that it might
live with him for the rest of his life. He let the message fall.
"If you get a list of dependent casualties, call a conference
immediately."
"Yes sir. Anything else, sir?"
He forced himself to forget Lynne and Karen and concentrate on the new
problems. He moved to the deck-port and kicked open the cover. On their
shortened orbit they were moving in relation to the earth's surface
now; the west coast of Africa lay below.
"Did Cargo One get launched?"
"No, sir. Destroyed while fueling."
One of the problems, then, would be starvation; Cargo Two was months
from completion. But at least, if they could survive, they'd have a
chance to prove themselves; to prove the value of the Platform in war
as well as peace; to save the tiny satellite for its intended use. He
turned to Goldstein.
"Pass the word for that conference now. We've got some high-powered
IQ's up here and there's a war going on. Maybe we can make it the last
one...."