Multiple-stage rockets had gone the way of square sail and piston engines when a crash program poured twenty-two mega-bucks into a non-mechanical shield. Piles now diverted four per cent of their output into a field which reflected neutrons back onto the pile instead of absorbing them. Raise the reaction rate and the field tightened. Those sudden statewide evacuations in the early years of the century were now remembered only by TV writers. A liquid metal heat exchanger transferred energy to the reaction mass which a turbine pump was drawing from a fire hydrant. Since the hydrant was fed from a sea water still there was no need for purification. The last load of provisions went up and an asepsis party rode the gantry, burdened with their giant vacuum cleaners and germicidal apparatus. "They'll seal everything but the control room," the general said. "When you go aboard there'll only be one compartment to sterilize." "I still think it's a lot of hog-wash," Aréchaga said. "They can't have us carrying any bugs with us," van den Burg said tiredly. "The Martians might put us in quarantine," Hagstrom added sourly. "If there are any Martians--and if we get there," Aréchaga groused. "Now boys," the general began. "Oh, save it, Pop," Hagstrom said. "Let's be ourselves as long as the public relations pests aren't around." "Anybody going to town?" van den Burg asked. "I am," Aréchaga said. "May be quite a while before I get another plate of fried beans." "Checkup at 0400," the general reminded. Hagstrom went to B.O.Q. Van den Burg and Aréchaga caught the bus into town and lost each other until midnight when they caught the same bus back to the base. "What's in the sack?" Hagstrom asked. "Snack," Aréchaga said. "I can't stand that insipid slop in the B.O.Q. mess." "Looks like a lot of snack to eat between now and daybreak." "Don't worry, I've got quite an appetite." * * * * * At 0345 an orderly knocked on three doors in Bachelor Officers' Quarters and three young men made remarks which history will delete. They showered, shaved, and spat toothpaste. At 0400 they walked into the Medical Officer's door. A red-eyed corpsman reached for a manometer and the three men began taking their clothes off. Fifteen minutes later the doctor, a corpulent, middle-aged man in disgustingly good humor for 0400, walked in with a cheery good morning. He poked and tapped while the corpsman drew blood samples. "Turn your face and cough," he said. "You think I'm going to develop hernia from riding a nightmare?" Hagstrom growled. "You did all this yesterday." "An ounce of prevention," the doctor said cheerfully. "A pound of bull," van den Burg grunted. "Now boys, what if that got in the papers?" asked a voice from the doorway. "Damn the papers!" they greeted the general. "Do we get breakfast?" Aréchaga asked. "You'll take acceleration better without it." "Tell my stomach that." "Bend over the table," the doctor said.