Millie held up an oversize pair of calipers. "The Security people," she said, "are not the only ones with weapons. I borrowed this from the machine shop." Mike stared down at the odd-looking "weapon." "It's hard," Millie continued, "to look at more than one thing at a time through a spacesuit helmet. I could've got 'em in the air hose while you held their attention." Mike's chuckle was just a trifle ragged, and his mutter about blood-thirsty panthers didn't really go unheard as he began shucking his spacesuit. This was the most dangerous point, Mike knew. The axis tube went from the observatory straight through to the south polar lock, with nothing to block sight or sound from traveling its length. They'd have to simply chance it. The spacesuits shucked, he opened the lock. Their luck held. No Security man was stationed opposite the mouth of the axis tube at the south polar lock. Halfway to the engineering quarters, Mike stopped, used a special key to open an inspection plate, and they dropped lightly into the huge shielding tank that now held only air. From there the pair back-tracked Mike's original path to the inspection plate in the engineering quarters, and so into his own bailiwick, where they found Ishie standing on catlike guard, a wrench in one hand, waiting for whatever might come up. "Confusion say," the grinning Chinese physicist declared, "two for one is good luck." * * * * * General Steve Elbertson made his way wearily in through the south lock and on to the bridge where he found the communications officer in complete charge with two Security men for assistants. The captain and Bessie were effectively bound, and placed in spare console seats. General Elbertson made his way to the captain's console and seated himself. Hot Rod was dead, but their control was by no means lessened. That he himself had not been shot dead on the way from Hot Rod was, to him, a confirmation of the weakness of his enemies. The satellite was under his control. The scientists would repair Hot Rod--and well he knew how to see to it that they did so. U.N. Security Forces were in complete, dictatorial command of Earth. He had only to eliminate the renegade Indian, and long before the Security scuttlebug, now on its way from Earth loaded with crack troops, should arrive, Security would be in complete command not only of the Space Lab, but of the weapon, which would by then be in repair. As a final test of its operation, it would be amusing to use the Indian, Blackhawk, as a target; and perhaps the captain as well, though he might have to use them as examples sooner--the captain and some others.