With a child's intuition for solving a problem simply, Dead-Eye and his Elizabeth had given man a chance to fight. "A chance, Curt?" Pat had overheard his whisper. Her hand on his arm was warm and vibrant. Curt clasped his fingers softly over hers. "Yes," he said, "if there is only time." Jan Eliel, senior governor of the Council of Seven, pulled his red-rimmed eyes from the telecast when Curt Wing and Pat and Lt. Packer entered the consultation room. Old as his face had stamped him those few days ago when Wing had brought the fleet back, Jan Eliel now was a broken and bent caricature of the man who held the direction of a world in his hands. "Yes?" he asked, and the life was out of his voice. Then he saw the four miniature earths which still glinted proudly in a row across Wing's torn and burnt tunic's left breast. "Wing!" He rose from his seat on the telecast bench, hurried forward. "You've solved it!" Wing shook his bandaged head. "I don't know for sure, Governor, but I think we do have a way of stopping the shadows--if there's time." Jan Eliel ran a shaking hand through his white hair. "I don't know. Zhan Nekel's fleet is moving faster than we thought it would, and the fleet units you smashed at the Moon have been re-organized and now are swinging toward us. That, at the most, gives us two days--and I thought we'd have at least two weeks. "But enough of that; what is the way to stop these terrible shadows?" Instead of answer, Wing asked: "How much of that obsolete Twentieth century artillery is available?" Jan Eliel's old eyes widened. "You're mad, Curt Wing," he said wearily. "We've tried everything we have, the finest weapons, the heaviest atom machines, and we get nothing in return except our own power turned against us. Powder would be worse than useless. You can't stop atomic power with an old-fashioned shell." "My friend Dead-Eye was killed when he proved you can," Wing said quietly. * * * * * Jan Eliel's voice was cold. He spoke quite without emotion. "You've been under too heavy a strain, Space Commander Wing. You are not the clear-headed Wing we once knew. Go back to the hospital and rest. Perhaps you will be able to bring back some semblance of sanity and help your world when she needs you most." "Damn you," Wing said. "Can't you see it? We've been throwing atomic power at an atomic shield, so it just bounces back at us. Suppose we threw something it couldn't bounce back right away, leaving us an opening to hurl our own atomic bolts into the heart of it?" Jan Eliel had turned his back on them, once more was watching the telecast. What's the use, Curt Wing? Why bother when the ruler of the world won't listen to what a big, blundering guy proved when he got mad and fired an old powder gun at a shadow? He's blinded as you were not so long ago by despair. Follow Dead-Eye's lead, show him the way and he may follow. "Come on," Wing said abruptly. "We have a job to do."