"I heard, while I was under arrest afterward, that our action cut down Moonbase's water production by about one third . . ."

"Ah?"

". . . but the damage could be repaired in a few weeks."

"Without needing any parts or supplies from Earth?" General Cianelli asked.

"That's right, sir. They have everything they need for the repairs there at the base."

"A few weeks," Sullivan mused. "That means the rebels are short on drinking water?"

"Not likely, sir," Colt responded. "The water facility can produce enough drinking, housekeeping, and irrigation water for both Moonbase and Lunagrad. They may be short on rocket propellant, though, since the hydrogen and oxygen are electrolyzed from the water that the facility produces." 501

General Cianelli frowned. "What sort of a man is this Colonel Kinsman?"

Careful, man! Colt warned himself. They know all about both of you. "He was a close friend of mine, sir. I've always regarded him as well-meaning, very likable, but politically soft."

They went on for hours. Colt carefully maneuvered around the fact that he could have shot Kinsman or could have attempted a counter-coup while the rebels were seizing the space stations. He gambled that no one else who had returned from Selene knew exactly what had happened and what role he had played. Only Pat Kelly might contradict him, but to do that Kelly would have to put himself on the spot. Gradually it became clear to Colt that they were no longer probing his loyalty or questioning his actions during the rebellion. They were pushing for information about the rebels themselves, Kinsman especially, and the defenses that the space stations and the lunar settlement possessed.

"Sir," he asked the General, "am I going to face a court-martial?"

General Cianelli glanced at the angry-faced civilian. "That's a matter to be decided . . ."

The burly man silenced him with the slightest movement of one hand. To Colt he said, 'There will be no need for a court-martial. Quite the opposite. We are seeking a knowl- edgeable officer to assume the late General Murdock's com- mand. A man who knows the space stations well enough to show us how to recapture them."

Colt closed his eyes momentarily and saw a general's stars. "Recapture the space stations," he echoed, looking straight into the civilian's pain-shot eyes, "I can show you how."

Cianelli looked surprised. Sullivan smiled. But it was the angry man who answered him. "How? The rebels have command of all the laser-armed satellites. They will destroy any rocket boosting up from Earth."

Colt faced him. "You've got to get them to agree to allow one flight to come up to Alpha. That's all you need: just one flight."

The man stared at Colt, his face red and scowling. Neither of the two Aerospace Force officers dared to speak. 502

Finally the burly man said, "Show me."

Colt asked, "Do you have a computer link aboard?"

The civilian looked up at the Lieutenant, still on his feet behind Colt. "Bring it."

It took some fiddling around with the terminal, a com- pact desktop unit, before Colt could link it with the files at Vandenberg. Finally the display screen showed views of Space Station Alpha, together with the records of the military crew needed to staff it.

"Even if we assume that Kinsman's put extra people in Alpha to protect the station," Colt said, "he couldn't have more than a hundred military men aboard."

"A shuttle carries only fifty passengers, max," General Cianelli objected.

"That's fifty civilians," Colt shot back. "We could pack more troops in, especially if you use the cargo space in the bottom deck."

The General sat up straighter. "We'd have to modify the shuttle, pipe life-support capability into the cargo deck—but that can be done."