"It's time to cut loose, that's all. We need action—real action, not just back-tracking." In spite of myself, anticipating, I smiled a little, "You've got a sigman on duty here somewhere, of course?"
"A sigman—?" Gaylord's furrows deepened. "Why, sure, of course."
"All right, then." I hooked my thumbs in my tunic-sash. "I want a message plated—an all-points, top-emergency, triple-restricted action order."
Utter incredulity came to the unit controller's eyes. He didn't move. He didn't speak.
"The message!" I repeated, more sharply. "Take it down. Right now."
Gaylord still didn't move.
"Would you rather I reported the fact and circumstances of your own de-conditioning direct to Controller Kruze instead?"
Another moment of silence, while the incredulity in Gaylord's eyes changed to sullen hate. Then, crossing to the voco, he flipped on the scriber unit. "All right. What's your message, rack you?"
For the fraction of a second I hesitated. My hands were suddenly cold, my lips stiff.
Then, drawing a deep breath, I spoke—slowly, distinctly: