Selecting the view of Wicksen's tractor, Edith continued without missing a beat, "The U.N.'s second missile was a nuclear weapon, aimed to wipe out Moonbase's main electrical power solar panels, which are spread across the floor of the crater. The people here call them solar farms. Thanks to the brilliant work of a handful of scientists and technicians …"

She praised Wicksen and his people, explained how the beam gun had deactivated the nuclear warhead and turned it into a dud.

But her eyes were pinned on the screen showing the Peacekeepers' vehicles creeping up the outer slope of the ringwall mountains.

Vince Falcone was watching the same view, sitting at a console in the control center. He was sweating, perspiration beading his upper lip and forehead, trickling down his swarthy cheeks.

This has gotta work, he kept telling himself. It's gotta work. Otherwise they'll be able to bring their missile launchers right up to our front door and blast it open.

For the twentieth time in the past half-hour he checked the circuitry to the microwave antennas atop Mount Yeager. One of the bright young short-timers had done a computer simulation that showed the microwaves would be reflected by the rock walls of Wodjo Pass and effectively reach all the foamgel goo they had spread there. The rock absorbed some of the microwave energy, of course, but reflected enough to get the job done.

Falcone hoped.

He looked across the row of consoles to where Doug Stavenger was sitting, deep in conversation with somebody on his screens. The kid's got all this responsibility on his shoulders, Falcone told himself. Least I can do is get this mother-lovin' foamgel to work.

He returned his attention to the screen showing the approaching Peacekeeper force. And felt a shock race through him.

They're splitting up! Falcone saw. The vehicles were dividing into two columns, one of them coming up toward Wodjo Pass, but the other snaking around the base of the ringwall mountains toward the steeper notch some two dozen kilometers farther away.

And it looked like a small party was starting out on foot to climb Mount Yeager, where the microwave antennas were.

Stupid shitfaced bastards, Falcone raged, offering the assessment both to the Peacekeepers and his own shortsightedness. They're only sending part of their forces across Wodjo. The rest of 'em will get through without being stopped by the goo. And if they knock out the antennas up on Yeager the goo won't do us any fucking good at all.

The earphone of the headpiece clamped over his thickly curling hair suddenly crackled. "Vince, this is Doug Stavenger. They've divided their force."

"Yeah, I can see it."

"It looks like that second group's heading for the northwest notch."

"And they're sending a team up Yeager."

"They're going to get through with no trouble, aren't they?"

Falcone nodded bitterly. "Even if we could spray some goo over that pass the microwaves from Yeager couldn't reach it. Assuming they don't disable the antennas before we want to us 'em."