Joe switched over without comment and called Space Command Base on the emergency channel, which was always monitored. "Wheel just rammed by Griseda," he said. "Possible loss of orbital velocity. Extent of damage unknown."
Lieutenant James, on duty at the Base, had just returned from a three day leave and was scarcely settled in the routine of his post once more. He glanced automatically at the radar tracking screen and his face paled at the sight of the irregular figure there, slightly out of the centering circle. It was no gag.
"You're dropping," he said. "Orbital velocity must be down. Can you correct?"
"I haven't been able to contact the bridge," said Joe. "Alert all Command and have crash point computed. Stand by."
It developed that the bridge was entirely gone, along with a full thirty percent of the station. Captain West had been spared, however, being on inspection in the other sector of the station. He came on at once as Joe McCauley managed to get the communication lines repatched.
"Emergency red!" he called. "All stations report!"
One by one, the surviving crew chiefs reported conditions in their sectors. And when they were finished, they all knew their chance of survival was microscopic. Captain West ordered: "Communicate with Base. Request plotting of crash point."
"Done, sir," Joe answered.
"Command post will be established in the radio room. Emergency steering procedure will be started on command. Man all taxi craft."
It was all on the tapes that were salvaged. Everything was done that desperate men could humanly do.