After a time, there came a knocking on my door.

Turn the handle and push, I said.

It opened and a young man named Rawlings entered.

Mister Schweitzer, he said, Carol Deith would like to speak with you.

Tell her I'm on my way, I said.

All right, and he departed.

I combed my sort of blond hair and changed my shirt, because she was pretty and young. She was the ship's Security Officer, though, so I had a good idea as to what she was really after.

I walked to her office and knocked twice on the door.

As I entered, I bore in mind the fact that it probably involved the J-9 and my doings of a half hour before. This would tend to indicate that she was right on top of everything.

Hello, I said. I believe you sent for me?

Schweitzer? Yes, I did. Have a seat, huh? and she gestured at one on the other side of her expensive desk.

I took it.

What do you want?

You repaired the J-9 this afternoon.

I shrugged. Are you asking me or telling me?

You are not authorized to touch the thing.

If you want, I can go back and screw it up and leave it the way I found it.

Then you admit you worked on it?

Yes.

She sighed.

Look, I don't care, she said. You probably saved two lives today, so I'm not about to fault you for a security violation. What I want to know is something different.

What?

Was it sabotage?

And there it was. I had felt it coming.

No, I said. It was not. There were some short circuits ...

Bull, she told me.

I'm sorry. I don't understand ...

You understand, all right. Somebody gimmicked that thing. You undid it, and it was trickier than a couple of short circuits. And there was a bomb. We monitored its explosion off the port bow about half an hour ago.

You said it, I said. I didn't.