“And there is a large fleet of ships belonging to Space Command and Starlight Enterprise converging on our location. In less than three hours, fourteen ships will be arriving within minutes of each other. Approximately the same number again will join them over the next twenty-four hour period.” Gene hesitated, then decided to deliver the last sentence. “Even if we are sheathed, sir, with that many ships so close, they will be able to find us before long.” Lurton Zimbardo turned his eyes obliquely to the floor and joined his hands behind his back. He rocked for a moment on his feet, almost as if pondering a challenging philosophical question. “I see,” he said at last. He walked quietly over to his console, sat for a moment without moving, then began to move dials and enter numbers into the navigational program. He consulted various tables of information and referred to a number of measuring devices whose sensitive detectors were on the surface of the asteroid. Minutes passed. Zimbardo grew increasingly agitated as he worked. His men had stopped their own work and watched him. Where his hands had begun to move gently and carefully, they began to exhibit higher and higher degrees of animation. Soon he was pressing his keyboard vehemently and muttering under his breath. Once in a while he chortled. Finally he shouted, “Hah! That will do it! I won’t be outsmarted!” He pressed the “Enter” button and then roared, “Yes! I win!” He leaped from his chair and lifted up both arms. “I win!” he screamed. As the program Zimbardo had activated was engaged, the power it required began draining the emergency resources of the asteroid. The lights dimmed and the usual hum of the atmosphere recycler began to stutter. “What did you do?” Gene asked with trepidation. “Even the backup power system is being strained.” “Just keeping a promise,” said Zimbardo jovially. “I told Earth I had sent them an asteroid. I wasn’t very truthful at the time, I’m afraid. But now I have kept my promise. I have redirected the asteroid so that it will collide with the planet! --and I’ve pushed the acceleration up to full!” A soul-wrenching moan escaped from Gene’s lips. He stumbled over to his chair and collapsed into it. He stared ahead, seeing nothing. The other men were frozen in their places. Zimbardo strolled over to the wall-screen that provided a map of the Inner Planetary system and indicated their position. With the power drain, the images were going in and out of focus and numbers were fading from the screen. “Hmm. About ten days to impact,” he muttered. “Can’t tell for sure with the images fading like this, but no matter. By that time we’ll be long gone.” A few minutes later the insides of the complex began to screech as they had before. The screech did not rise in intensity but gradually turned into a groan. The light slowly faded and then went out completely.