The engineer grinned. "Never happened, but they're ready for things like that with any gravital system. They got monitor stations all over—the moons of Jupiter, Mars, Earth, Venus.
"Any time the gravital computer gets dizzy, the monitor overrides it. If that fails, they send a jammer impulse and freeze it up tight. It won't work until they let loose."
Cameron sighed. He was getting very little help or information from Vogel. "All right," he said. "You've told me what I wanted to know."
He watched the engineer depart for the gravity-generating chamber far below the surface of the asteroid.
he post on Handicap Haven wasn't pleasant; it wasn't an experience a normal human would desire. It did have advantages—advancement came in sizes directly proportional to the disagreeableness of the place.
Ten months to go on a year's assignment. If Cameron could survive that period with nothing to mar his administration, he was in line for better positions. A suicide or any other kind of unpleasantness that would focus the attention of the outside world on the forgotten asteroid was definitely unwelcome.
He flipped on the telecom. "Rocket dome. Get me the pilot."
When the robot finally answered, it wasn't encouraging. "I'm sorry. There is no answer."