"Nothing," Banning said. "It wouldn't fire. Unless--unless he didn't pay any attention to the board, and left his hotpoints on after he saw it wouldn't fire." "What are hotpoints?" "The ignition elements. They'd melt down under continuous heating and--well, then we wouldn't have any more problem. The tanks would go." "You'd better clear the field," Colin said quietly after a minute. "Sergeant," he said to the radioman, "would you give the _Phoenix_ a 'message coming' beep?" The radioman did, then said to Colin, "Go ahead." "Is he receiving?" "Yes, sir." "Colonel Harkins," Colin said. "Colonel Harkins, can you hear me?" The loudspeakers buzzed. "Colonel Harkins, please reply." The speakers snapped once. The sound of Harkins' whistle came over, loud at first, then drifting away. He was whistling the same tune as before. "... _had a true wife but I left her, oh, oh, oh, oh_ ..." "Do you want her back again?" Banning asked, recognizing the melody. "Colonel Harkins, please reply," Colin said. Switching the mike off, he turned to Banning. "Better get her," he said. "We may have to go through the whole thing again." * * * * * It took twelve minutes by the control clock before they heard the door of the room open, and the light tapping of Martha Harkins' feet. Banning and Colin turned away from the window to greet her. Suddenly their shadows were thrown violently ahead of them, leaping across the floor and up the opposite wall like frightened animals trying to escape. They swung back to the window, their words of greeting still unspoken. For perhaps a half second they could make out the upper part of _Phoenix I_, standing above the ugly glare like the nose of a whale thrusting up through a sea of boiling flame. Then it disappeared, and the fire-ball climbed suddenly into the night sky, rolling and twisting in on itself. A gantry tipped and fell out of the flame with ponderous slowness, twisted and melted before it crashed to the pad. Then the unbearable glare died, and the searchlights played on an opaque black column of smoke, redly lit from within, standing where _Phoenix I_ had stood. The roar that shook the building seemed to come much too late. * * * * * Colin slumped disconsolately in the control room, staring blankly out at the clusters of beetle-like trucks clustered around the landing pad, with their feathery antennae caressing the stack of still-burning wreckage. Washed down by the foam trucks, the fire would soon be out. But there would be little advantage to it, except to clear the pad. "How's Mrs. Harkins?" he asked without turning as he heard footsteps behind him. "Under sedation," General Banning said. He came to stand beside the psychiatrist, looked with him at the firecrew's activity, so disorganized and insect-like at a distance. "They'll have it out pretty soon," he said unnecessarily. "Mm."