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you just see some hot-headed young M.P. trying to make a reputation for himself on the back benches! You know darn well that I'm their favorite whipping-boy as far as expenses go. They never have liked spending a penny on inter-planetary development. What happens if we blast off a couple of millions credits worth of fuel and it turns out that it was just radio interference?"
    "I see your point, General," said Krull. "On the other hand, what happens if we just sit here and wait, and something out there is ready to sweep on the whole system?"
    "I know that, too," said the general, "and I don't want all that responsibility on my own. I think I ought to contact the President…"
    "But that's going to take hours," said Jonga unhappily. "Just imagine if some of those chaps ran into a bit of difficulty, and the squadron were landed on one of those asteroids to take the men off: a stricken ship…"
    "—In which case they'd have radioed back," put in the general. "Men don't just go out there and disappear. They would have made radio contact. On the other hand, we all know well enough that radio contact from space can be a very erratic thing. There's so much interference that only the finest sets will pick it up, anyway."
    The others agreed, and sat sipping their drinks in a stony, brooding silence, looking from one to the other.
    "I've got one suggestion," said Jonga. "It's not very original, if I go back and check the survey we're on— we're counting for the fifth time—if I finish that survey and there's still a negative result—in other words, if we still stick at 2,813, then I suggest we hang on, and regard things as normal. But if anything in the least odd shows up, we'll report back to you, and you can contact the President."
    "Well, it would give us something concrete to work on, but what happens if nothing shows up?"
    "Then we'll give them two more radio checks—"
    "I couldn't stick another eight hours," said Rotherson.
    "How do we know there isn't something already out there that's swallowed up those other ships like a sponge?"
    "I know! I know!"
    "Why do the wrong men get into politics?"
    "Well, I suppose we've got to have someone see we don't waste the public money."
    "Yes, I suppose so." Krull laughed ironically. "But how much good will the money do the public if there's a thing out there, like I imagine there might be!"
    "What sort of thing are you imagining?" asked the general.
    "Something with a brain as big an asteroid. Something as old as the stars themselves. Something that can control destiny. Something as terrible as a nova, something stronger than gravity. I don't know! I don't know!"
    "I think we'd better be getting back to the chart room."
    "O.K.," agreed Jonga, still playing with his empty glass.
    "Cigarette?" asked the general suddenly.
    "Thanks." They sat in that same stolid silence, watching the blue-brown spirals of smoke curl up toward the ceiling.
    "I don't know what the heck we're going to do," said Jonga. "I've got no idea at all."
    "I think your plan is about the best. It's better than sitting here and sweating it out."
    "We couldn't send just one scout ship up to see what's happened?"
    "I think it's pointless. If whatever's up there is big enough to smash five, what's the use of throwing good money after bad? It's either the fleet or nothing. The question is, is it bad enough to send the fleet? Or are they going to come crackling through on that radio beam and tell us everything is O.K.? It could be a band of cosmic rays just cut all radio contact for a time. It has happened before."
    "That could be it," said Krull, but he didn't sound convinced.
    "We'll leave it like that for the moment," decided the general. "There's another project here I'm supposed to be getting busy on, but I don't feel much like it."
    He reached for a sheaf of papers, and gave a wave of his hand to indicate that the interview was at an end. They made their way back toward their own section.
    "He's feeling the strain," said