"We may find more when we get it examined in the shop," the general mused, swishing by the wheat. "But at least we know they do come down some place, and it wasn't flash fusion. On this one, anyway." "What do you think about instituting a search of this vicinity for other parts, general?" The officer growled negatively. "Obviously, the reactor was the only part not vaporized in the fall--because of its construction." "That's assuming the ship entered the atmosphere at operational velocity and not less than free fall," the major qualified. "How can anyone assume free fall? Way outside probability." "Yes, sir, but there are degrees of velocity involved. He could have used reverse thrust and entered at a relatively slow speed." "All right, all right--let's say possible, then. Pull off your search if you want to. I'm in this thing so deep now, I'll try anything to get going. I've got Congress ready to investigate, and some senator yesterday put pressure on to cancel the United Nuclear contract. I'll try anything at this point, Grant!" The big man's voice had risen to anger, but Major Grant Reis had not missed the vocal breaking in the last syllables. * * * * * "I'm First Lieutenant Ashley and I've an appointment to see General Morrison." The adjutant said, "Sorry, but you'll have to wait a little longer. The general's unexpectedly busy." "My appointment was over an hour ago." "Another half-hour and you can go in." "Another half-hour and I'll go." "It's your bar." The lieutenant plopped back into a chair just as Grant strode swiftly past the adjutant's desk from the private office. "Major," the adjutant asked, "how long is the general going to be tied up? He won't let me in the conference and the lieutenant here is supposed to see him." Grant paused at the opposite door and pointing two thumb-and-forefinger guns at his head exploded them. The adjutant groaned understandingly. Even the first lieutenant caught on. "Major, it's pretty important," the waiting officer said, standing again. Grant shifted his attention. "Look, lieutenant--" Grant bottled the sarcasm behind his suddenly lax mouth. He saw a first lieutenant's uniform, but it bulged aesthetically; and he saw a first lieutenant's cap and bar, but it sat rakishly on puffed-up brown curls. "If you'll just look at these papers, major, you'll understand. I stratoed in from the Pentagon this morning," she said crisply. Though it was Grant's turn to say something, he found too much of his concentration on her challenging brown eyes and the efficient down-sweep of her half-pouting mouth, plus a nub of a nose that pointed proudly upwards with the tilt of her head. In a temporary defensive maneuver, Grant took the papers handed him. * * * * * The borders were marked CONFIDENTIAL and the attached signatures would have impressed even the general. The subject--he might have expected--ATOMJET PATROL LOSSES.