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They trooped through the connecting door and Bandin dropped into his chair behind the massive desk. One button slid aside the paneling, with a portrait of George Washington attached, to reveal the screen of a 72-inch projection TV. Another button turned it on and they watched fixedly while two bars of soap danced to a Chopin etude, then dived into a basin of water. This scene faded to be replaced by the life-sized image of Vance Cortwright. He did not have his familiar smile, known to millions, but his familiar frown, equally well known, which meant the news was very serious. He laid down a handful of papers and spoke solemnly, directly into the camera.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Many of you who stayed up last night to watch the spectacular launch of Prometheus will have retired with the comfortable knowledge that this largest of all space flights was off to a successful start. If you read the early editions of the morning papers you would have known this as well. Only if you have been listening to your radio, or watching television, would you know that a most recent development has altered that situation dramatically. There has been some difficulty in firing the core body, the final booster that will lift Prometheus into its higher orbit. The orbit they are in now is…” he consulted his papers, “… approximately eighty-six miles above the Earth and the ship and booster are making a complete orbit every eighty-eight minutes.”

His image vanished and was replaced by an animated drawing of Prometheus and the attached core body orbiting the Earth.

“Our hearts go out to these six brave astronauts who are, literally, trapped in orbit. Until means are found to fire the booster, Prometheus cannot rise up to its proper place in the sky, to the fixed position in space above the Earth where it is to begin this mighty project of supplying solar energy to a power-hungry world below. Not only can they not go higher, but they cannot return to the safety of the Earth in Prometheus, which was designed to remain forever in orbit. It does not have either the correct engines, the power or the fuel for this task. It is a prisoner in space, in orbit, and the six men and women aboard are prisoners as well. What their fate will be we cannot determine at this moment.”

Cortwright reappeared on the screen, and sitting next to him now was a small man in an ill-fitting suit, his long hair carefully combed into place by the make-up girl. This was obviously not its normal condition because, as he moved his head nervously, a long hank detached itself and hung in front of his eye. Cortwright nodded to him.

“With me in the studio now is Dr. Cooper, the Science Editor of the Gazette-Times. I have a copy of the morning edition of your paper here, Dr. Cooper, and the lead story is a very startling one, I might even say a very frightening one. If I might just read the headline. It is in very large type and says BOMB IN THE SKY.”

He held up the newspaper so the screaming red words, covering half the page, could be seen.

“That is strong language, Dr. Cooper, as is the story that follows. Do you think it is true?”

“Of course, it must be, facts…”

“Could you please tell us just what are the facts behind this extra edition of your newspaper?”

“It's obvious, there in the sky above us!” He waved his hand over his head, then dropped it, started to worry his finger, then dropped his hand guiltily back to his lap. “Prometheus is up there, passing over our heads about once every hour and a half. Not just the satellite itself, but the attached booster that won't fire. Prometheus at this moment weighs slightly in excess of four million pounds. We must guess at the weight of the booster, but since it must contain a great deal of fuel, in addition to its own mass, I would say that its weight must also be in the region of a million pounds. There are five million pounds up there, three thousand tons of metal and explosive fuel. If that should fall…”

“Hold on, please.” Cortwright raised his hand and Cooper stammered to a stop and instantly had a quick nibble on one nail. “If I remember correctly the space scientists have been telling us for years that it takes energy to change anything in space. It took a lot of energy to get Prometheus up there into orbit, and it will take a lot of energy to get it down as well. It will stay in orbit until it is pushed out.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Cooper vibrated in his chair with the intensity of his feelings. “That is for an orbit well outside of the Earth's atmosphere. But Prometheus has not reached that altitude yet, there are still traces of air at that height. Air that will slow her down, more and more. It is what is called a decaying orbit.”

“I would like to kill that hairy little son-of-a-bitch,” Bandin muttered.