Deck One was firing. One, two, three, four, five, six. One, two, three, four, five, six. One, two, three, four, five, six. People turned to one another and shook hands, laughed and slapped shoulders heartily. Eighteen missiles were racing through the stratosphere, soon to tumble on Ellay. With any luck, one or two would slip through the first wall of interceptors and blast close enough to smash windows and topple walls in the crazy city by the ocean. It would serve the lunatics right. Five minutes later an exultant voice filled most of Denv. "Recon missile report," it said. "Eighteen launched, eighteen perfect trajectories. Fifteen shot down by Ellay first-line interceptors, three shot down by Ellay second-line interceptors. Extensive blast damage observed in Griffith Park area of Ellay!" There were cheers. And eight Full Maintainers marched into the refectory silently, and marched out with Reuben. He knew better than to struggle or ask futile questions. Any question you asked of a Maintainer was futile. But he goggled when they marched him onto an upward-bound stairway. They rode past the eighty-ninth level and Reuben lost count, seeing only the marvels of the upper reaches of Denv. He saw carpets that ran the entire length of corridors, and intricate fountains, and mosaic walls, stained-glass windows, more wonders than he could recognize, things for which he had no name. He was marched at last into a wood-paneled room with a great polished desk and a map behind it. He saw May, and another man who must have been a general--Rudolph?--but sitting at the desk was a frail old man who wore a circlet of stars on each khaki shoulder. The old man said to Reuben: "You are an Ellay spy and saboteur." Reuben looked at May. Did one speak directly to the man who wore the stars, even in reply to such an accusation? "Answer him, Reuben," May said kindly. "I am May's man Reuben, of the eighty-third level, an Atomist," he said. "Explain," said the other general heavily, "if you can, why all eighteen of the warheads you procured today failed to fire." "But they did!" gasped Reuben. "The Recon missile report said there was blast damage from the three that got through and it didn't say anything about the others failing to fire." The other general suddenly looked sick and May looked even kindlier. The man who wore the stars turned inquiringly to the chief of the Maintainers, who nodded and said: "That was the Recon missile report, sir." The general snapped: "What I said was that he would _attempt_ to sabotage the attack. Evidently he failed. I also said he is a faulty double, somehow slipped with great ease into my good friend May's organization. You will find that his left thumb print is a clumsy forgery of the real Reuben's thumb print and that his hair has been artificially darkened." The old man nodded at the chief of the Maintainers, who said: "We have his card, sir."