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reverse and backed away from the curb. They swung down the street with their red gumball light flashing.
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Darkness returned to the hardware store. Slowly, Rolf stood up. His legs ached with nervous cramps.
He was shivering and drenched with a cold sweat.
Mr. Sheperton got up too, and leaned his forepaws on the counter top. He huffed at the scattered pile of
electronics components. "Quite a scare for a measly ten dollars worth of trinkets."
Rolf looked at the pile. Mr. Sheperton was right. All the junk on the table wouldn't cost much more than
ten dollars.
He suddenly patted the dog's floppy-eared, furry head. "Come on Sh . . . Mr. Sheperton. Let's get out
of here."
"And leave your booty?"
"We'll get it tomorrow morning. Legally. After the bank opens and I can raid my savings account. I
didn't realize these things would be so cheap."
Sure enough, when Rolf tried the front door it was unlocked again. And as he and Mr. Sheperton trotted
down the street toward home, the street lamp in front of the store turned on brightly.
Breakfast was about the only time that Rolf ever saw his father anymore. Tom Gunnarson had never
been a loud, jovial man. But these days he was uptight, wound up, and hardly said a word to anyone as
Mrs. Gunnarson put bowls of cereal on the table for her two men.
"How's the countdown going, Dad?" Rolf asked.
"Huh?" Tom Gunnarson seemed deep in private thought. He looked up at his son. "Oh, the countdown.
Fine, right on schedule. Everything's working just right. No hitches at all. No gremlins anywhere."
Rolf nearly choked on a spoonful of cereal.
"G . . . gremlins?" he coughed.
"Mythical creatures," Mr. Gunnarson explained absently. "Whenever something goes wrong with a piece
of machinery, the technicians say that gremlins have gotten into it. Gremlins get blamed for anything that
goes wrong they're supposed to be full of mischief. No such thing as gremlins, actually, of course."
Swallowing hard, Rolf stayed silent.
"No," his father went on, thoughtfully. "The countdown's been remarkably free of gremlins. Everything's
going so smoothly that it's kind of spooky. Which reminds me I may have a happy surprise for all of us,
to announce to you in a day or two."
"If it's all going so smoothly, why can't you spend more time at home, then?" Rolf blurted.
"Rolf!" his mother snapped. "Don't be fresh. You know your father would be home if he could be. The
launch . . ."
But Tom Gunnarson put a lean, strong hand on his wife's arm. "Actually, Rolf," he said, "it wasn't the
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launch itself that kept me busy last night." His voice sounded slightly blurred, tired. "We had a long
session with the security people. . . ."
"Security?" Rolf squeaked. His heart gave a thump inside him.
"Yes. Somebody's been sneaking boatloads of tourists into the cleared area around Playalinda Beach.
That's not really very dangerous right now, but the security people are getting very upset about it. That
area has to be cleared before we can launch, and if some thieving boat captain is taking advantage of the
tourists and holds up our launch . . ." Rolf's father clenched his fist tightly enough to bend metal.
Fortunately he wasn't holding his spoon at that moment.
They finished breakfast in silence. Almost. The baby began crying as Rolf spooned the last of his
milk-softened cereal flakes. Mrs. Gunnarson got up quickly and headed for the nursery.Used to be my
playroom, Rolf couldn't help reminding himself.
His father got up a moment later. "See you later, son."
"Okay, Dad."
Tom Gunnarson called to his wife from the front door. She called back from the nursery, told him to try
to get home early enough for a good night's rest. Then he was gone. Rolf sat in the kitchen.Alone, he
thought,again. He pushed his chair back from the table and, without a word to his mother, went out the
back door.
He was getting his bike out of the garage, when Rita came up. She was just Rolf's age in fact, they had
grown up together, but now she looked to him like a stranger.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," he answered, busy rolling his bike out.
"Say, he was neat on television, last night," she said.
"Who?" he grunted, without looking at her.
"Your dad!" she looked surprised. "Didn't you watch him on TV last night? We saw him on the later
news. And they had the same thing on again this morning, on the network show. Everybody in the
country must have seen him this morning."
"Big deal," said Rolf.
"What d'you mean big deal?" She stared at him.
"Big deal," he insisted. "You know what's important in the world today? Ecology, that's what. But you
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