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“So that he couldn’t send any messages after the bug got him,” Drake said. “The more people trampling around, the easier it would be for the Quedak. If he had possession of the transmitter, he’d be calling for help right now.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Cable said unhappily. “But, damn it, we can’t handle this alone.”

“We have to. If the Quedak ever gets us and then gets off the island, that’s it for Earth. Period. There won’t be any big war, no hydrogen bombs or fallout, no heroic little resistance groups. Everybody will become part of the Quedak Cooperation.”

“We ought to get help somehow,” Cable said stubbornly. “We’re alone, isolated. Suppose we ask for a ship to stand offshore—”

“It won’t work,” Drake said. “Besides, we couldn’t ask for help even if we wanted to.”

“Why not?”

“Because the transmitter’s not working,” Drake said. “You’ve been talking into a dead mike.”

“It’s receiving OK,” Cable said.

Drake checked to see if all the switches were on. “Nothing wrong with the receiver. But we must have joggled something taking the transmitter out of the ship. It isn’t working.”