Taft grasped his shoulder encouragingly. “Nothing will stop us. We’re going to the stars--no matter what it costs. However, you’ve been working too hard. I’ll send my doctor to you. He’s strict about some things but he’s the best. He’ll get you back in shape.” Taft turned to Talbot. “As for you, I don’t like memory lapses, even in minor matters. I want you to promise me you’ll see my doctor after he gets through with Frescura.” “I’ll be glad to,” Talbot said, without animosity. “I’ve been wondering what to do.” Taft swung back to Frescura. By some personal miracle the man had pulled himself together again. He was alert and forceful. Taft regarded him with approval. “That’s better. Go home and rest. Don’t work today.” “You’re right,” Frescura said. “I should do that. I’ll have to drop by the lab and tell the boys I won’t be in for a few days.” “Evan will tell them. We’ll call a cab and get you on your way. Don’t worry about anything. The project will be continued.” They waited until Frescura left in an aircab. Taft got up, shaking his head bewilderedly. “Well, I’ll go too. Don’t forget that call tonight.” “I won’t. I’ll be sure and call her.” “Good.” Taft wiped his forehead. “This has been a hassle. We have them occasionally but I’ve never seen one to equal this.” Still shaking his head he went away. Talbot leaned back and closed his eyes. He had achieved a victory that was far from superficial and it gave him a feeling of personal solidity. He was Soleri and he was going to be Soleri and nobody would ever know the difference. But the rest didn’t make sense. Both Taft and Frescura were now beyond suspicion. He had nothing to go on--nothing at all. He’d have to re-examine the whole problem from the beginning. Somewhere within the plant was a criminal conspirator who didn’t want TRANSPORTATION to develop the perfect rocket motor. He was still there. He had killed once, and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill again. Why? If he could put his finger on the man’s motivating impulse he could track him down with little trouble. Somehow it seemed to go far beyond ordinary commercial rivalry. Talbot heard a sound at his elbow and opened his eyes. Randy was standing beside the desk. “Sleeping?” she asked, smiling at him. “No, just thinking,” he said. She leaned toward him. “Think about this then. I want to leave early.” He stared at her, puzzled. “No. There’s work to do.” “But there isn’t,” she assured him. “I ought to know.” He realized then that she wanted him to know that she had listened to most of the conversation. Probably she’d read the note from plant protection. Talbot thought of the call he’d have to make later. He had no desire to make her listen to that too. “All right,” he said. “I guess you know by now that I can’t play the stern employer when you look at me like that.” She smiled at him, turned and went out. He remained in his office thinking throughout the afternoon. He went home late--and alone.