The screens flashed to life. We saw the field around us, and two gigantic rockets, silver with thick blue bands dividing each into three sections, the three-stagers that would shortly hurtle us out beyond the atmosphere. Skagarach began working with the control panel too. At last we had a complete view of all sides of the wheel. Many Old Companions, from the musters which had captured the rockets and brought them here by VTO tug, were hurrying from wheel-side to rocket, working under the orders of their experts to attach all components together. This was a purely mechanical job, but I doubted that it would be done quite so quickly as my comrades seemed to believe. I saw at least two fumbling attempts to clamp a single connection that failed miserably. Skagarach scowled and Cuff told him to telepath Milo to get down to business. They both breathed heavily through their nostrils. Then I started to needle them. It was a hell of a job, doing it without making them enraged with _me_. First I would ask Skagarach's opinion on something, then Cuff would sneer at it, and I would give Cuff a gentle push toward anger. It was like taking two wildcats, one in each hand, and teasing them so that they'd fly at each other's throats--ignoring the man who was actually baiting them. Sweat sprang out on my face and my hands were moist. What did it was an inspired reference to telepathy. That was Cuff's sore spot. He turned to Skagarach, eyes narrowed, big hands working malevolently, and I looked at my watch and saw I had six seconds to go; I said, "But isn't telepathy the major need of a first leader?" with innocence dripping from my voice, and Skagarach laughed harshly and said a sane being would presume it was, and then Bill Cuff leaned over and hit him in the mouth. Skagarach recoiled, spat, and then lashed back with a fist that, if smaller than Cuff's, was still larger than anything you'd care to have sock you in the nose. Then they were growling like dogs and trying to strangle one another. I didn't count on this for a finish fight; I knew it must have happened often enough before, the meeting of these two brutal creatures; and I thought they were at bottom too dependent on each other, Cuff for Skagarach's telepathic powers and the yellow-hair for my cousin's primordial power, ever to actually fight to the death. But this was all I'd gambled for, this infuriated scuffle. I leaned across the great board of instruments. The revolver I'd been given was in my hand, reversed. I struck the master switch twice, hard, with the butt of the gun. The second blow knocked it out of alignment and the screens went blank.