"Then take a stab at it. I've only got three replacements, and there may be more than that blown out completely. All the results aren't in yet."
"O.K., and we'll make repair right up to the point where we need the generator anyway, whether we can repair ours or not. Then if we need it, all we have to do is to hand it in and hook it up."
"Fine, Pete. Now look, 6 doesn't answer. Send Timkins out there with Joyce. Must be pretty bad."
"O.K., boss. We're on our way."
At Tommy's call, McBride went to the big air lock and the flitter took off for 6. As they went, McBride operated the generator that reversed their charge so that they could land on 6 without difficulty. Halfway across the lens, the telephone in the flitter rang, and McBride dropped the generator controls and picked up the instrument. "John," came the voice, "this is Hastings, on 10. A space-ship just came limping into the station, falling free. We slung out a line and caught it. We cut her open and found the dame that was the cause of all this. What shall I do now?"
"My better instincts say to slug her. The stuff I was taught at my mother's knee says to spare the violence. Keep her there until I get finished at 6."