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Watkins hurried to the engine room. He returned morosely.

“Of all the damn things,” he muttered.

“What was it?” Captain Somers asked.

“Main firing circuit. It fused on us.” He shook his head. “Metal fatigue, I’d say. It must have been flawed for years.”

“When was it last checked out?”

“Well, it’s a sealed unit. Supposed to outlast the ship. Absolutely foolproof, unless—”

“Unless it’s flawed.”

“Don’t blame it on me! Those circuits are supposed to be X-rayed, heat-treated, fluoroscoped—you just can’t trust machinery!”

At last Watkins believed that engineering axiom.

“How are we on fuel?” Captain Somers asked.

“Not enough left to push a kiddy car down Main Street,” Watkins said gloomily. “If I could get my hands on that factory inspector ...”

Captain Somers turned to Rajcik, who was seated at the navigator’s desk, hunched over his charts. “How does this affect our course?”

Rajcik finished the computation he was working on and gnawed thoughtfully at his pencil.

“It kills us. We’re going to cross the orbit of Mars before Mars gets there.”