There was an aching void of silence, then "Affirm! I have it. Commencing first pass!" Walter Stanton became suddenly aware that Radar Control was crowded. He heard Peters' voice: "How many runs can he make?" "Two runs; he'll fire two proximity rockets per pass. They ought to track the missile." "Yeah," said Lang dryly. "It's all doped out. This science is wonderful...." Walter Stanton jumped as an image of the missile appeared on the telescreen. From a tiny flash it grew quickly more bright until it was a circle on the screen. "Locked!" grated Cramer's voice. "Firing!" Two streaks appeared at the bottom of the screen and darted for the circle. Walter Stanton heard a gasp of relief in the compartment as they sped true, straight for the center. Then, amazingly, the streaks wobbled erratically and streaked away. The circle of light moved slowly downward off the screen as Mel Cramer pulled up. "Missed," breathed Goldstein. "Brother...." Mel Cramer's voice cut into the silence. It was strained and uncertain. "I think it's jamming my control heads.... Putting out strips, maybe. I'm making another pass." "Thanks, Colonel," whispered Lang from the plotting board. "This is what Uncle pays you for.... Let's earn it...." For an eternity they waited, and again the circles appeared in the center of the screen. "Locked," Mel Cramer said. Closer and closer moved the light, and for a moment Walter Stanton had a wild burst of hope. The target seemed too close to miss; the two rockets streaked for it, reaching hungrily. Then they wobbled again and disappeared from the screen as Mel Cramer pulled up. There was a chilling silence in the room. "Well," said Goldstein, "that does it. We've got ... let's see ... 176 seconds, if anyone cares to know." Mel Cramer's voice came into the room as if from the grave. "It.... It was jamming ... I was right on!" "Excuses, Colonel," muttered Lang. "Always excuses...." Goldstein talked into the mike. "Colonel, I suggest you commence your braking ellipse immediately. I don't know what effect the explosion will have in this orbit, but I think you'd better leave it." Walter Stanton turned desperately to Goldstein. "Goldie, is it certain? We've _got_ to save the platform! Suppose I use full reactors, shorten our orbit even faster?" "It won't matter, sir." He jammed his thumb at the PPI scope. "That thing's tailing us like a flying cadet after a WAF. It'd follow us all the way back to Sandia if we could get there."