Luther Chen-Wong called from Port Carpenter, on Koshchei. He and Clyde Nichols and a young mathematics professor named Simon Macquarte had been running the colony, in Conn's absence and since Yves Jacquemont had gone to space in the _Ouroboros II_. "Well, they caught up with you," he said. Evidently he had figured out what the search for Merlin was all about, too. "What do we do about it?" "Well, we are just before finding Merlin, here. I hope we find it before things get too bad." He told Luther the situation of the moment. "Have you people started on another hypership yet?" "We're getting organized to. I don't suppose it's advisable to send any more ships in to Storisende for a while? And are you sure this thing you've found is Merlin?" "I don't know what it is. It's only big enough for the apparatus they'd need to operate a thing like Merlin--Yes, Luther. I am sure we have found Merlin." Chen-Wong looked at him curiously. "I hope so. I can't think of anything else that can stop this business." Tom Brangwyn was in the room when he turned from the screen. "We searched Leibert's--Shanlee's--rooms," he said. "We found a bomb." "What kind of a bomb?" "Vest-pocket thermonuclear. He seems to have gotten the fissionables by taking apart a couple of light tactical missiles; the whole thing's packed inside a hundred-pound power-cartridge case. It was in a traveling-bag under his bed. And you know how it was to be fired? With a regular 40-mm flare-pistol, welded into the end of the bomb. The flare-powder had been taken out of the cartridge, and it had been reloaded with a big charge of rifle-powder. I suppose it would blow one subcritical mass into another. But the only way he could have fired the bomb would have been by pulling the trigger." And blowing himself up along with it. He must have wanted Merlin destroyed pretty badly. "Have you questioned him yet?" "Not yet. I wanted to tell you about it first." He looked at his watch. Only four hours had passed since the newscast; why, that seemed like months, ago, now. "All right, Tom; we'll go talk to him. Where's the Colonel?" Zareff was surrounded by a dozen screens, keeping in touch with the _Lester Dawes_ and the gunboats and combat cars, and the gun positions with which he had ringed Force Command. It was only a little army, maybe, but he was a busy commander-in-chief. "You take care of it. Tell me what you get from him. I can't leave now. There's a report of a number of aircraft approaching from the west now...." They found Judge Ledue, and Kurt Fawzi and Dolf Kellton, who were just sitting around wishing there was something to do to help. They gave Franz Veltrin and Sylvie Jacquemont the job of keeping the representatives of the press amused. Then they went down to the room in which General Mike Shanlee was held under guard. Shanlee, wearing a bathrobe and nothing else, was lying on a cot, sleeping peacefully; three of Zareff's men were sitting on chairs, watching him narrowly.