"Dr. Johnston, Earth is not in control. I do not know why, and there is no way of finding out. Hot Rod is wild, and _that_," he pointed at the enlarging red spot that centered the computer display, "is what your ruby is doing to Earth. "You will turn off the project, at gunpoint if necessary," he continued in a grim voice. "If you turn it off volitionally, you will be treated for radiation. If you refuse, you will not live to be treated for anything. Do you understand? How many men do you need to help you ... and I do mean _you_ ... with the job?" he asked. [Illustration] Dr. Johnston hesitated only fractionally, and Nails Andersen mentally put him down on the plus side of the personnel for the shortness of his com lag. Then he said, "The job will require only two men for the fastest accomplishment. You realize, captain that you are probably signing our death warrants--the two of us. But," he added, glancing only casually at the display on the console, "I can understand the need to sign that warrant, and I shall not quibble." The intercom spoke. "This is Dr. Green, captain. There is no key on the person of Major Elbertson. We have searched thoroughly, sir. I understand the need is of an emergency nature. The key is not on his person. We have taken every possible measure to arouse him, as well, and have been unsuccessful." Andersen flipped his switch. "Let me speak to the Hot Rod Security officer," he said briefly. "Chauvenseer speaking, sir," the man's voice came on. "Do you know what the key looks like?" "Yes, sir. It looks somewhat like a common Yale key, sir. But I've never seen another just like it." "There is only the one?" "Yes, sir." "Where would he keep it, if not on his person?" "I don't know, sir. We came straight to the morgue--the shield area, from the air lock. I don't believe he stopped off anywhere he could have put it." The captain turned to the second Security officer. "Search Elbertson's spacesuit," he said. Then to the intercom, "Search his hammock. Search every spot he went near. That key must be found in minutes. Commandeer as many men as can help in the search without getting in the way." He paused a moment, then flipped another intercom key. "Mr. Blackhawk," he said. The intercom warmed at the far end. "Yes sir?" Mike's voice was relaxed. "Is there any way to turn off Hot Rod without the Security key?" "Why sure, captain." Mike's voice held a grin. "I could pull the power switch." "Pull it. Fast. Hot Rod's out of control." Mike's hand flashed to a master switch controlling the power that fed Hot Rod, and blessing as he did it the fallacy of engineering that had required external power to power the mighty energy collector.