He had to think of something! Everyone was so occupied with last-minute details that probably no one was even looking at the rocket. Besides, it was light outdoors. His flashlight would be only a dim glow in the rising sunlight.
There had to be another way. He forced himself to calmness. Approach it logically, he told himself sternly. The way to do it is to signal the blockhouse.
He studied Prince Machiavelli, looking for a clue in the spacemonk's draping of instruments. He could tap on the bell of the stethoscope. But then he realized the display would not yet be rolling.
He had a quick vision of Dick Earle and Gee-Gee watching the master board, checking the circuit lights as they flicked from red to green. The board must be nearly all green now, he thought—and in the same instant he knew how he could attract attention.
Rick jumped to the center of the tiny room and crouched over the drone control. He removed the cover. There was one circuit that served only as a feed to the board, to show that the control was operative. Break that and the board would show red.
His flashlight probed the maze of wiring and he located the signal wire. Fishing into the spaghetti with his fingers, he got thumb and forefinger on it and tried to break it. The wire held.
He fumbled in his belt kit and found a pair of side-cutting pliers. They would do. He reached in and snipped the circuit wire, then he slumped down on the deck and mopped rivulets of water from his face.
Close! He glanced at his watch.
Zero minus two.
He grinned foolishly. This would be something to tell his grandchildren. Once, because of a silly mistake he came within two minutes of being the first spaceman!