I rested, gathering strength, then probed, straining.... There was a room, men. I recognized Kayle, gray-faced, haggard. A tall man in braided blue stood near him. Others stood silently by, tension on every face. Maps covered the wall behind them. I was looking into the War Room at the Pentagon in Washington. The line I had traced was the telephonic hot-line, the top-security link between the Record Center and the command level. It was a heavy cable, well protected and always open. It would free me from the trap. With Gool-tutored skill I scanned the room, memorized its co-ordinates. Then I withdrew. Like a swimmer coming up from a long dive, I fought my way back to the level of immediate awareness. I sagged into a chair, blinking at the drab walls, the complexity of the transmitter. I must move fast now, place the bomb in the transmitter's field, direct it at the target. With an effort I got to my feet, went to the sump, lifted the cover. I grasped the lifting eye, strained--and the bomb came up, out onto the floor. I dragged it to the transmitter.... And only then realized what I'd been about to do. My target. The War Room--the nerve-center of Earth's defenses. And I had been ready to dump the hell bomb there. In my frenzy to be rid of it I would have played into the hands of the Gool. VII I went to the phone. "Kayle! I guess you've got a recorder on the line. I'll give you the details of the transmitter circuits. It's complicated, but fifteen minutes ought to--" "No time," Kayle cut in. "I'm sorry about everything, Granthan. If you've finished the machine, it's a tragedy for humanity--if it works. I can only ask you to try--when the Gool command comes--not to give them what they want. I'll tell you, now, Granthan. The bomb blows in--" there was a pause--"two minutes and twenty-one seconds. Try to hold them off. If you can stand against them for that long at least--" I slammed the phone down, cold sweat popping out across my face. Two minutes ... too late for anything. The men in the War Room would never know how close I had come to beating the Gool--and them. But I could still save the Master Tape. I wrestled the yellow plastic case that housed the tape onto the table, into the machine. And the world vanished in a blaze of darkness, a clamor of silence. _NOW, MASTERS! NOW! LINK UP! LINK UP!_ Like a bad dream coming back in daylight, I felt the obscene presence of massed Gool minds, attenuated by distance but terrible in their power, probing, thrusting. I fought back, struggling against paralysis, trying to gather my strength, use what I had learned.... _SEE, MASTERS, HOW IT WOULD ELUDE US. BLANK IT OFF, TOGETHER NOW...._ The paths closed before me. My mind writhed, twisted, darted here and there--and met only the impenetrable shield of the Gool defenses.