"You'd better call them, Whitey," Joe said.
"No, not yet. You saved my life when you dragged me away that day my kidnap plan failed. You carried me, fractured skull and all, away from the greatest chance a man ever had to make this a real world. If we had got the president we could have forced the wildwood doctrine down the people's throats."
Joe shook his head. "The people won't take forced medicine. They must have sugar-coated pills to cure them and lead them right."
Whitey cut in: "Then you made me promise I'd quit. And you told Carol of my plot, and she wouldn't look me in the face when I came."
"She cried her eyes out when you left. She asked me to find you and bring you back. But you wouldn't listen." Then, softly, "She's still waiting, Paul. Waiting for you."
Paul stood tensely, his eyes searching Joe's bearded face. The atomic motor thrummed quietly.
"You'd better call them, Paul."
Whitey jumped unexpectedly, as the shrill keening of the danger siren suddenly keened into the power room. Bairn's voice cracked through the speaker:
"Grab something, guys. A meteor, and we can't dodge!"
Like an exclamation point to his words came the heeling crash.