"_You're responsible now!_" said Sally, as fiercely as before. "_If the Platform's smashed, the rockets that can reach it will be duplicated to smash our cities in war! But if you can reach the Platform and arm it for defense, there won't be any war! Half the world would be praying for you, Joe, if it knew! I can't do anything else, so I'm going to start on that right now. But you try, Joe! You hear me?_" "I'll try," said Joe humbly. "Thanks, Sally." He heard a sound like a sob, and the headphones were silent. Joe himself swallowed very carefully. It can be alarming to be the object of an intended murder, but it can also be very thrilling. One can play up splendidly to a dramatic picture of doom. It is possible to be one's own audience and admire one's own fine disregard of danger. But when other lives depend on one, one has the irritating obligation not to strike poses but to do something practical. Joe said somberly: "Mike, how long before we ought to contact the Platform?" Mike reached out a small hand, caught a hand-hold, and flicked his eyes to the master chronometer. "Forty minutes, fifty seconds. Why?" Joe said wrily, "There are some rockets in enemy hands which can reach the Platform. They were shipped to launchers ten days ago. You figure what comes next." Mike's wizened face became tense and angry. Haney growled, "They smash the Platform before we get to it." "Uh-uh!" said Mike instantly. "They smash the Platform _when_ we get to it! They smash us both up together. Where'll we be at contact-time, Joe?" "Over the Indian Ocean, south of the Bay of Bengal, to be exact," said Joe. "But we'll be moving fast. The worst of it is that it's going to take time to get in the airlock and unload our guided missiles and get them in the Platform's launching-tubes. I'd guess an hour. One bomb should get both of us above the Bay of Bengal, but we won't be set to launch a guided missile in defense until we're nearly over America again." The Chief said sourly, "Yeah. Sitting ducks all the way across the Pacific!" "We'll check with the Platform," said Joe. "See if you can get them direct, Mike, will you?" Then something occurred to him. Mike scrambled back to his communication board. He began feverishly to work the computer which in turn would swing the tight-beam transmitter to the target the computer worked out, He threw a switch and said sharply, "Calling Space Platform! Pelican One calling Space Platform! Come in, Space Platform!..." He paused. "Calling Space Platform...." Joe had a slide-rule going on another problem. He looked up, his expression peculiar. "A solid-fuel rocket can start off at ten gravities acceleration," he said quietly, "and as its rockets burn away it can go up a lot higher than that. But 4,000 miles is a long way to go straight up. If it isn't launched yet--" Mike snapped into a microphone: "Right!" To Joe he said, "Space Platform on the wire."