"How could you know our scoopship would--"

"Wait!" Oliver held up his hands. "Wait. Ron? Ron, it's all right. It's been years and years. Most of us forgot Phoenix ever existed. How did you know Alex was coming?"

"Know Alex was coming? No, that's silly. Alex? Couldn't know. Couldn't know. But we needed Angels to make it fly. Angels to bear her up into heaven, lest she dash her foot upon a stone."

Alex rubbed a hand over his face. Oh,dear God…

"You see, she won't reach orbit on her own. Gary told me that. Long ago. Before. She's a heavy-duty ship, designed for flight tests. And maybe Gary cut the design too close. She can get to elliptical orbit, but it won't be stable." He turned watery eyes on Alex. "And up to now there's been no way to change that. But you can."

"What in the world is this?" asked Sherrine. She called from the back of the cavernous garage. Alex and the others followed her voice to a dark corner behind the trucks where an immense and convoluted structure of piping stood hissing. Out of one end, small dark droplets of liquid fell into a holding tank. Oliver started to laugh.

"So this is it!" he said.

Cole bounced up and down from his knees, holding a finger over his lips. "Shhhh!"

"What is it?" Sherrine repeated.

Bob frowned at the structure. "It looks familiar. I've seen it somewhere." He started to hold his finger under the dripping liquid, but pulled back. Who knew what that stuff was?

"It's the regenerative cooling system from the old Titan up in the museum," Oliver explained. "Ron stripped it out and used it to make his still. He distills fruit brandies." He placed a finger under the drip and stuck it in his mouth. "Blackberry. Very tasty. The museum doesn't pay Ron squat."

"I pay them," Cole said. "Heh. Apple is best. The trucks were bought with apples and peaches."

Bob started giggling. "Moonshining in the basement of the Museum of Science and Industry? I love it!"

Alex smiled. "Yes, but back to the trucks. Is there fuel? Can we get to California? Or is that another detail?"

"Some details are important," Cole said. He pointed to stacks of 55-gallon drums racked against the far wall opposite the still. "Shemp."

Alex blinked. "Shemp?"

"Fourth truck," Cole told him. "Sold it before I sold Moe. Full of JP-4. Kerosene. Heating oil--"

Oliver nodded. "People pay a lot for heating oil and they don't ask questions."

Alex blew a cloud of breath into the chill air. "No, I don't suppose they do." He had a sudden, wild image of Cole, his eyes glowing crazy, careening Moe around the streets of Chicago, making clandestine midnight deliveries of black market heating oil. It was a hell of a planet.

Bruce was a SMOF. He made a list. SMOFs always make lists.

Sherrine sat on the floor next to Steve, with her knees drawn up under her chin and wondered if she would ever see Gordon and Alex again. She pictured Phoenix soaring skyward on a pillar of fire. God, to be there! But she would be back home, and would hear about it only on the news (if they dared run it on the news) and she would smile a secret smile that her coworkers would never understand.

"First," said Bruce, "we need identity papers for the Angels, in case Phoenix doesn't work out. Sherrine, Mike, Bob and I will be returning to Minneapolis. Sherrine, you'll link up with Tom Marshall and get that ball rolling. Okay?"

Back to Minneapolis. Sherrie nodded. "Sure." Back to the old terminal. It would be tricky, working things out of the University computer center, setting it up so they couldn't trace back to her.

Bruce checked off something on his list. "Good. I'll have The Ghost set up the Great Scavenger Hunt." He looked at Alex. "Fans will come up with stuff we never thought of. You'll have your cornucopia."

Bruce checked off another item on the list. "Mike."

Mike came to abrupt attention--hard to do while slumped in a chair--and snapped a salute. "Oui, mon capitan!"

You find out about the plastic corn at Iowa State."

"Yes, mon capitan!" He looked at Sherrine. "I'll need a name," he said.

Sherrine rose. "I can call my grandmother right now. Oliver, can I use your phone?'

"Use a public phone," said Thor. "Always use public phones. Its a rule."

Fang looked at him. "I thought you were quitting this."

Thor shrugged and looked away. "Last reflex twitch of a dying brain."

"Don't do it now," said Bruce. "Wait till we're done here." He studied his list and licked the point of his pencil. "Steve. You've got to get back to California, right?"

Steve, meditating in a full lotus on the floor, answered without opening his eyes. "Right."

"Could you be our point man for the first option? Head up to Edwards and talk to Gary. Get the full picture. Fill him in on what's happening. Find out if he'll volunteer his bird."

"He'll volunteer, all right. I only met him the once; but the one thing in life he wants more than anything else is to fly that bucket."

Harry popped the lid of a beer can. "Odds are that Wade has already filled him in."

"Sure, but Wade doesn't know everything. Steve, it can't hurt to make sure."

Steve opened his eyes. "I know that. My dojo can stay closed another few days."

"We're not asking you to go underground," said Bruce, checking another item off the list. "Oliver will hide the Angels until everything is ready."

Oliver bowed. "My honor."

"Especially Gordon," added Violetta, giving the younger Angel a broad smile. "You can make Roland jealous."

Gordon said, "Well, uh…"

"Check," said Bruce. "Next item is to get the trucks--"

"Larry and Curly," said Cole.

"--to California. We need drivers." He looked at Thor, Fang and Harry.

"I told you already," Thor said. "Count me out."

Harry shrugged. "I can take one, but the bike will be more useful. You'll need scouts, and Jenny and I do that best."

Fang raised his hand and waved it back and forth. "I want Larry."

Bruce blinked. "Why Larry in particular?"

"Because I always liked him. The Forgotten Stooge. He never got the credit he deserved."

Bruce made a note on his pad. "Fine. Jenny can ride the bike--or can you drive this rig?"

Bob said "She doesn't have to. I'll drive."

Bruce frowned. "Bob? Don't you have to be back at the University?"

"I took care of that. I'm not going back."

Sherrine looked at him. "What happens to your students? I thought you told me you owed it to your students to teach them."

He met her eyes. "I will be teaching them. This will be a lesson they never forget."

"Are you contemplating going to orbit?" Alex asked.

"Sure. I'm in good shape, I have a Ph.D in physics, and the rocket seats--what? More than two."

"More than two, da," Gordon said. "But--"

"He's saying don't burn your bridges," Alex said. "Commander Hopkins may not want another physicist. Even if this Phoenix works, which isn't all that damn clear to me."

"I know that," Bob said. "I didn't quit. On the way here I called the University and told them I have typhus.

"Typhus?" Thor said.

"Why not?"

Damn you, Sherrine thought. And I'll be back at my computer console-

Bruce tugged on his beard. "Okay, then. Bob and Fang drive. Harry and Jenny scout ahead. Steve takes the train to coordinate with Hudson. Now what about Dr. Cole? Ron, what do you want to do? Stay here?"

"It may not be safe," Cole said. "It has been getting worse every year. Another year, two at most No, there is no reason for me to stay here now."

"Want to go to California?"