"B jet just went out. Atomic slug clogged."
"How radioactive is the spout?" asked Swenson.
"Heavy."
"Have somebody who's already had a family put on armor and clean up the mess," Swenson said, "and alter course for Luna City. I'll send you the exact course in a few minutes. When you get to Luna, land beside the Moulton Trust's ship. Now stand by to record code."
Swenson reached back to Mister Cerobie. "Acme private code book."
Silently, the Chairman of the Board handed it to him. When Swenson had finished coding, he handed the original message to Mister Cerobie. The message read:
"Captain Elsing, have crew start fight with Moulton's crew. Not much incentive will be necessary. See that no real damage is done. Urgent. Will take all responsibility. Explain later. Cerobie."
"Swenson," Mister Cerobie said quietly, "you are insane. Tear that up."
With slow dignity, Swenson put on his coat. He stood there, smiling, and looking at Mister Cerobie. The memory of Dovorkin stalked unpleasantly through the Chairman's mind. Everything was hopeless, anyway. Better go out with a bang than a whimper.
"All right, send it," he said. "There is plenty of time to countermand—after I talk to you."