Steve Hammond called from across the room: "What he said still goes. He'd do as much for me!" "Just a big bunch of mutual admirers," sneered Sandra. "Always sticking together in a pinch." "What's wrong with that?" "Why didn't you think of your wife a long time ago instead of worrying now. Fine show of nerves for the public consumption!" "Miss Drake, as far as we are concerned, you haven't been properly treated. Somewhere in the Good Book is a reference to sparing the rod and spoiling the child. Do your parents twist their faces in anguish every time they see you? They should. Anyone who has foisted upon this solar system a stinking little, unfeeling rotter like yourself should hate to be alone with their thoughts. Now get out of here and let us alone." Sandra moved back at the harshness of his voice. McBride looked behind her and instinctively put out a hand to stop her; but Sandra thought that the move meant violence and moved back faster. She collided with a dangling wire from the alphatron and went rigid. She toppled, as stiff as a board. "Great Space!" exploded Hammond. "Jimmy, how much was that?" "Nine hundred alphons," answered Jimmy, looking at the meters on the alphatron and making a quick calculation. "Not enough to harm. She's just had all of her voluntary nervous system paralyzed." McBride stooped, picked her up, and carried her to a work-chair, which he kicked horizontal with his foot and dropped her into it. He went to the medicine cabinet and filled a hypo which he shot into her arm. Gradually her too-regular breathing became humanly irregular again and she moved to get up. "Stay there," said McBride. "Rest a bit," advised Hammond. "And remember next time," warned Jimmy, "that this kind of a place is no place to walk backwards. Another two hundred alphons--and that is far from impossible--and you'd have been extremely dead." He wiped his forehead with a dirty cloth, mopping the beads of nervous perspiration away. "I suppose that would have left you without a pilot," said Sandra. Her sharp remark lacked her usual conviction, however, and she realized that it fell flat. She got out of the chair and left abruptly. * * * * * "Well, I'll be--" "Be careful," said Larry. "She isn't worth it." "I'm going to take the bad taste out of my mouth by calling the Lens," announced McBride. "Go ahead," offered Pete. "We'll polish off here and by the time you're through, we'll make a stab at it!" McBride got a through connection to Station 1, and Dr. Caldwell came to the phone. "Doc," asked McBride. "How's Enid?" "Touch and go, lad. We're still fighting." "Bad?" "I'm afraid to say 'no' to that one," answered Caldwell in a tight voice. "What does she say?" "She's been in a coma ever since the fall, except for a minute or two in which she called for you. John, I shouldn't have sent you away." "Don't worry about that one. After all, you didn't know she was going to take a header."