"I know what you mean," Zen said. As he spoke, another figure came into existence to his left. Nedra! She came spinning into reality with a smile on her face. Zen wasted a moment wondering what kind of cast-iron nerves this girl had. "It looks as if all we have to do is to tie them up," Spike Larson said. "This is almost too good to be true." "It is too good to be true," Zen said. Turmoil was--somewhere. He did not know where but it seemed to him that a vast uneasiness had suddenly come into existence. It had to do, somehow, with the future, with a something that was about to happen. "Halt!" Grant's voice rang out. Zen swung his gaze around just in time to see an Asian lift himself to his feet near a control board that stood beside the rocket. "He's walking in his sleep," Larson exclaimed. "_Zero minus one minute_," the loudspeaker announced. "Where in the hell is that man on the speaker?" Grant demanded. "The sleep frequency didn't get to him!" "No time to be concerned about him now," Zen said. The turmoil that existed somewhere had increased in intensity. Somehow it was concerned with the solitary Asian who was reeling in circles like a drunken man trying to make up his mind. "Shall I shoot him, colonel?" Grant demanded. Zen hesitated. He knew that West's deepest wish was to avoid violence if that was possible. The split second's delay was fatal. Grant's shot rang out--much too late. Reeling on his feet, the man reached the control panel, and pulled the single switch there. A heavy thud came from the rocket as a ram drove home inside the heavy metal hull. "Get back!" Zen screamed. He caught Nedra and pulled her backward. Beside him, he knew that Grant and Larson were also reeling backward. Inside the rocket a steady rumble of sound was building up. Low in frequency but heavy in volume it seemed to shake the foundations of the Earth itself. Inside the vessel heavy heat charges were building up. Smoke and flame spurted backward as the first warming charge let go. For all Zen knew this section was to have been cleared before the firing of the first rocket. He did not know whether provision had been made for the elimination of flame and smoke but he knew that heat and smoke hit him as he pulled Nedra away. Then the main charges let go. Rising like some devil spurting upward from the depths of hell itself, the launching cradle carrying the rocket lurched upward. The stone floor shook underfoot, the mountain shook. Unless this rocket could be stopped, the whole planet would shake. Earth would twitch her skin like an elephant stung by a giant wasp. With a thundering roar the rocket shook itself loose from its cradle and hurled into the sky under its own power. "West," Zen shouted. "Yes, Kurt." The craggy man's reply was as prompt as it would have been if he had stayed in the same room. Actually he was in the American center. "We've lost," Zen said.