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〃Yes； sir。〃
〃Raise the forward cowl； Mister Hakawa；〃 Forsythe said impatiently。
Lisa could barely contain herself。 It was almost as though she could dismiss this latest snafu the way a cyclist might shrug off a punctured tire after a thousand…mile journey。 Earth； after close to fifteen years。 With nothing unforeseen in store for them this time： no accidental jumps to Pluto； no fold hitchhikers to rescue； no surprise attacks by alien cruisers。 The REF knew who and what they had e for： the Regis and the world they had lost to her。 They knew； too； the Shock Troopers and Pincers they would be facing； and they knew how to engage them。
And best of all； they knew they would succeed。
Six years of effort had gone into this one day； and the fleet that was the result of that labor would be spread out before them； weapons arrays and bat mecha targeted for Reflex Point。 Earth； Lisa said to herself again as the forward view port shields retracted。 Earth！
Light of a sort began to filter onto the bridge； only it was neither the wele warmth of Sol nor the reflected brilliance of their blue…white homeworld。
It was the alien light at the end of Lisa's tunnel in the sky。 It was death light。
On the mand balcony of the fortress's cavernous Tactical Information Center； Rick Hunter stared unprehendingly at the monitors affixed to the portside bulkhead。
〃I'm sorry； sir；〃 an enlisted…rating tech stationed at a nearby console repeated； 〃but the opticals are on…line。 This is the external view。 Sir。〃
In the phasing； satanic illumination of the emergency lights the room could have been a corner of hell。 Rick would have taken odds that it was just that： the hell of his space lace given shape during the fold。 But unlike Lisa's recurrent tunnel； Rick's nightmare vision did not require a jump to ignite it。 The set； the setting； the thousand separate elements that posed it could all be traced back to the Genesis Pits on Optera。 Walk away from it you might； but turn around and the fear would be there； waiting for you； beckoning you back into its sinister embrace。
An inter buzzed insistently at Rick's back。 〃mand One；〃 he heard his adjutant say at last。 〃Doctor Lang； Admiral；〃 the colonel continued； conveying the mobile over to him。
〃What the hell's going on？〃 Rick shouted into the mouth piece。 〃Where are we？〃 He glanced at the monitors once more before proceeding。 〃It looks like fog out there； Lang。 Is that possible？〃
〃I would like to humor you； Admiral；〃 Lang said； 〃but； unfortunately； there is little humor in the situation。 And if it is indeed a fog； as you suggest； it is of the quantum sort。 We have life support； but little else； as I'm sure you're aware。 〃
Rick's boot continued to tap the floor long after Lang had finished。 The two men had grown distant from each other on Tirol； Lang like some Prometheus with his facsimile Protoculture matrix； and Rick busy with Roy more often than not。 The wizard of Robotechnology kept getting stranger while Rick just kept getting grayer。
〃How long before you can return power to the drives？〃 Rick demanded。
It was to be the REF's final battle； he thought； the one that was to decide their fate； return to them their homeworld or send them back to Tirol； an irradiated Earth in their wake。
Lang launched his patented maniacal laugh through the earpiece。 〃Perhaps you should abandon your post for a moment and e below； Admiral。 There's something I'd like you to see。〃
〃I don't have time for this； Lang；〃 Rick told him。 〃Just tell me where we are。〃 He heard the urgency in his voice and noted that his adjutant was fixing him with a concerned look。
Lang's laugh trailed off as he cleared his throat。 〃You may not like the answer； Admiral。 〃
Rick's hold on the phone became viselike。 〃You let me lie the judge of that。〃
Lang was quiet a moment； then said： 〃Nowhere。〃
In whispered voices behind cupped hands it was often suggested that Dr。 Emil Lang ran the ship。 Not that he had much to do with mand decisions or actual hands…on astrogation； but that he ran the ship in the sense of driving the ship； fueling it。 Word was passed in those same engineering huddles that the Reflex furnaces and Protoculture drives were nothing but pretense…mock…ups constructed to put the uninitiated at ease…when in fact Lang himself was the drives。 Lang folded space； Lang jumped the fortress from realm to realm。
Lang was aware of all the rumors but did little to discourage them。 Myths concerning his powers and prowess had been in the making since the first day he had set foot inside the grounded SDF…1。 No one had seen him take the Protoculture mindboost that had altered the direction of his life； but they had read the change in his reshaped eyes。 And had his eyes not betrayed him； even had he not taken the boost； they would have invented it for the myth； witnessed that he alone among Earthers was destined to see deeper and clearer than the rest； that the Protoculture had a natural affinity for him。
But that was just the sort of thinking that pointed out how great a distance he had yet to travel。 The ship's drive； he sniggered to himself。 Hardly。 The ship's driven； perhaps； the SDF…3's preconscious libidinal urge 。。。
Lang lifted his eyes to regard the displays once more。 On screen were remote views into the heart of the fortress's power plant； safely rendered for a mortal's eyes； for one did not look long into the naked eye of God and live to describe it。 But there was a burning bush now； no ten thousand stars or golden heavens； simply the absence of those things。 What Lang saw instead was a reflection of his own pride； the hubris that had dominated him for the past five years。 He and Cabell and the Zor…clone； Rem； harvesting the Flower of Life from Optera's regrown fields； coaxing the secret of the Shapings from its trifoliate core； creating a matrix of their own design。 And now this。
Lang saw his face in the display screen and laughed out loud。 The Shapings were teaching him a lesson。
He was still laughing when Rick Hunter rushed in； threading his way through the chaos； techs and their bewildered assistants moving frantically from station to station。
〃What'd you get me down here for； Lang？〃 Rick barked； pacing behind Lang's chair and glaring down at him。
Lang's upturned look was unreadable as he indicated the displays。 His humanity as well as his age seemed to have been arrested by continual contact with the Protoculture。
〃See for yourself； Admiral。〃
Rick spread his hands atop the console and leaned toward an on…screen puter…enhanced translation of the engines' subatomic fire。 He held the pose for a moment； then glanced at Lang in annoyance。 〃I don't see anything wrong； Doctor。〃
Lang snorted。 〃No； of course you wouldn't； Admiral。〃 Rick was used to the condescending tone。
〃Explain。〃 The Roboscientist sighed and blanked the monitor with a tap of a crooked forefinger。 〃It has vanished； Admiral…the Protoculture。 Disappeared。 〃
Rick's dark brows beetled。 He reached out to reactivate the screen； but Lang's powerful hand restrained him。
〃Take my word for it； Admiral； the Protoculture has vanished。〃 It would have been senseless to talk about the shadowy presence of the blac