Wade turned and got the mike again. "This is Mother. Keep an eye on the hull temperature. Watch that gyro. If you feel the slightest vibration be sure to start the auxiliary immediately. Over." "Romeo, Mother. Take care of my letter. I--" the speaker became silent. Major Gormely moved like a blur of light. Wade knew what was wrong the instant he looked at the pip on the radar scope. Major Gormely hurriedly began checking instruments. But he had seen too. The equipment was in order. It was the _Starfrost_. It had all indications of a "wobble". "This is serious, isn't it, Wade?" Boeman didn't look at the Secretary when he answered. His eyes were glued to the radar scanner. "Pretty much. It could be the end if he doesn't catch it in time." "What can we do?" "Nothing but wait. He isn't finished yet. He has the extra gyro. That should do it. If not he can try the fuel as a last resort. It's only theory plus but he might be able to blast something with substance against the dorsel fin. If he plays it carefully he might be able to give the gyro a hand. It will be tricky but we think it can be done." "What effect will that have on the mission? He has only so much fuel!" "He can waste thirty seconds. After that he is cutting himself short on the leg home." "The wobble stopped," Major Gormely said quickly. It was true. The course was slightly erratic but Ackerson had the _Starfrost_ back under control. Wade wiped the back of his hand over his lips. Suddenly he felt tired and old. He wanted to sit down. "Keep trying on the radio, Mike," he said. He walked over to the small table with the television set on it. He switched it off. He didn't want to look at that empty sand. He lighted another cigarette. Then he reached inside his blouse and withdrew the letter Ackerson had left for him. He didn't want to read it. For the first time he had felt close to the blond man ... felt sorry for him. The letter could say something to change that. "Why don't you read it, Wade?" the Secretary said. Wade looked up quickly. The Secretary was smiling with that know-all look of his. Wade reached in his pocket and brought out the pack of cigarettes. Then he caught himself. But the older man hadn't missed the one smoldering in the ashtray. A tight smile creased Wade's face. He felt like a small boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I know a nice quiet spot in upper New York. Phonecia! There's a nice trout stream beside the only hotel. The people are simple and tolerant. And there is a small, private bar where a man can really relax. I think I'll go up there for a few years when this is all over." "Now you're reading _my_ mind," the Secretary said. They both laughed. "Seriously, Wade. I think you should take a long rest when this is over. A man with your knowledge of the human body should realize that you're fighting fatigue. In fact I've already spoken to General Dominick about it."