"Give or take a few hundred," murmured Goldstein.... "Oops ... I think she's started another burn-out period...."
"She's accelerating, sir," said Lang. "But fast...."
They watched the tiny pip while Goldstein worked with his cranks and dials. "Spatial velocity will be about 1300 knots relative, sir."
"Well," said Cramer. "At least I could catch it on a second pass ... if I missed." He coughed nervously. "How much time have we got?"
The circuit to Ground Control burst into life. "Space One, Space One, this is Ground Control. We have a missile on our scope from relay Four. Altitude four hundred miles, relative velocity 1370, Latitude—"
Mel Cramer picked up the mike. "OK, OK, ground control. We have it." He smiled bitterly and added: "I assume you're intercepting with a missile."
There was a long silence, then: "Mel, this is General Staves. You know damn well we can't intercept. We just picked it up, and we're too late."