"It belonged to your little playmate of the month. I discovered it when I was lugging her through the tunnel. She had it taped to her leg."

"You little bastard," Pitt said evenly. "You mean you had it all the time we were having our brains beat out by Darius?"

"Sure." Giordino nodded. "I concealed it inside one of my socks. I never had a chance to use it. You jumped Frankenstein before I was ready. After that, the brawl happened too fast. The next thing I knew I was flat on my back getting my head crushed. Then it was too late, I couldn't reach the peashooter."

Pitt became silent; already his mind was on another subject. It was still early in the morning and the trees edging the road threw their long misproportioned shadows toward the west. He drove mechanically, a hundred questions, a hundred doubts circulating through his mind. He didn't know where to start, and there was the plan that had taken form back there overlooking those surf-pounded cliffs. The plan at best was a gamble, a long shot backed by nothing but an overpowering urge to carry it out. And then he was automatically depressing the brake pedal, slowing the truck down and stopping at the Brady Field main gate.

* * *

Forty minutes later they were climbing the boarding ladder of the First Attempt. The deck was deserted, but a chorus of hearty male laughter accompanied by the high-pitched giggle of a woman echoed from the mess-room. Pitt and Giordino entered and found Teri surrounded by the entire crew and scientific staff of the ship. She was dressed, or undressed, in a knotted makeshift bikini that looked as if it would come unfurled at the first sign of a passing offshore breeze. She perched prettily on the mess table, the center of attraction, a queen holding court, and it was obvious that she enjoyed every male eyeball. Pitt bemusedly studied the men's faces for a moment. It was an elementary task to separate the scientists from the professional crewmen. The latter stood quietly and gazed lecherously at the generous display of feminine skin, their minds throwing pornographic scenes on the inside walls of their skulls like movie projectors. Most of the vocal activity came from the scientists. The marine biologists, the meteorologists, the geologists, each vying with frantic zeal for Teri's attention and behaving like schoolboys whose dormitory had just been invaded by a box office sex queen.

Commander Gunn saw Pitt and came over to him. "I'm glad you're back. Our radioman is about to go psycho. Since dawn this morning he's been receiving signals faster than he can write. Most of them are marked for your attention."