Bombs Awry

I

There were some new faces among the crew that crowded around him as he came up the runway into the air-lock, and theVanguard rang with greeting:"Hi, Pete," or"Glad to see you again, Commander Ellsworth," depending upon how well they knew him. Peter felt a bit of nostalgia—but only briefly. TheVanguard had been both a comfortable and interesting berth; but in every man's life there were crossroads, and some of them demanded that he give up one course, however pleasant, in favor of something more promising.

And some of them, like this one, took a man just across a tall fence, and let him brush occasionally against his former existence.

"How're things going?" he asked.

Toby Reed grinned."Fine. We've still got a fine gang, Peter. We're stopping 'em all cold. We'll stop yours cold, too."

Peter felt a mild flash of professional hostility. He was no longer one of them. He had no right to the"Commander" title any more. He was"Ex-Commander" by proper title, if he owned any title at all. He was on the Other Side. And the gang that once would have turned theVanguard inside out for Peter Ellsworth were now going to turn it inside out to prove that they were smarter than Peter Ellsworth.

"Think you have anything?" asked Harry Lockwood.

Peter nodded."Think I'd be handing it over to this gang of thieves if I didn't?"

He felt that this was the course to take. He must be as confident as they were. They were a smart outfit, and Peter was only one man; yet Peter knew all the tricks himself, and he doubted that they had invented many new ones. So unless someone had come up with about as new a technique as could be, Peter would win. He had all the old bets covered.

Actually, Peter had been covering them for years. There's a lot of free time in a job like Peter's former command—time to watch and think and plan and set down ideas. For seven years Peter Ellsworth had been in command of theVanguard, and in that time he had seen a good many self-guided missiles launched in the ultimate test against theVanguard's highly-specialized countermeasures crew. He had watched them all fail. He had taken careful note of the reasons. He had worked with the crew against them—

What better training than this for a man who wanted to build one?

Down in the torpedo-hold were three shining metal cigars. Peter Ellsworth's pets. His babies. Sunk into them were all of his hopes, all his meager finances, and all the money that everybody who was Peter's friend had been able to scrape up. He could not fail.

He waved to his former crew and went aloft to the pilot's bridge to see the present commander.

"I'm Peter Ellsworth."

Commander Hogarth eyed him with interest."You trained me a fine gang," he said warmly.

"They were a willing bunch."

Hogarth smiled."You're hoping, but it's no go," he said cryptically.

"H'm?"

"Ellsworth, no matter how neutral a man is he can't help being human first. In some situations like this a man could count upon human nature to help him out. Not this time, Peter. Not this time. That gang below would like to have you back. The only way to get you back is to ruin your chances. They'll work hard at it. As for me, I could use an Exec. Forester wants to transfer back to the heavies."

Peter shook his head."I'm hocked up to the eyebrows," he said."If I fail this test, I'll be ruined. At an Executive Officer's pay it would take me about two hundred and eighteen years of service to pay it back. That's without eating."

"But you ought to know you can't win."

Peter shook his head again."This time