Astounding Science Fiction, June 1944 (British Edition) — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

12 : with plastic combs, or doing anything that would set up any kind of electronic charge. Only the highly filtered generators in the power rooms were running and these had been shielded and filtered long years ago; nothing would emerge from them to inter- rupt the ether. All incoming signals were stopped. And the men who listened with straining - ears claimed that the sky was absolutely clear save for a faint crackle of cosmic static which they knew came from the corona of the sun. One group of men sat about a static-field indicator and cursed the minute wiggling of the meter, caused by the ever-moving celestial bodies and their electronic charges. A sunspot emission passed through the Station once, and though it was but a brief passage, it sent the electrostatic field crazy and made the men jump. The men who were straining their ears to hear became nervous, and were jumping at every loud crackle. And though the man at the telescope knew that his probability of picking up a sight of the Solar Queen was as slender as a spider’s web, he continued to search the starry heavens. He swept the narrow cone of the heavens wherein the Solar Queen was lost according to the mathematical ex- perts, and he looked at every bit of bright- ness in the field of his telescope as though it might be the missing ship. The beam-scanners watched their return- plates closely. It was difficult because the receiver gains were set to maximum, and every tick of static caused brief flashes of light upon their plates. They would jump at such a flash and watch for it to reappear on the next wipe, for a continuous spot of light indicated the ship they sought. Then, as the spot did not reappear, they would go on with their beams to cover another infinitesimal portion of the sky. Moving forward across the cone of expectancy bit by bit, they crossed and recrossed until they were growing restive. Surely the ship must be there! At the South End landing stage, a group of men were busy stocking a ship. Supplies ahd necessities were carried aboard, while ‘ another group of men tinkered with the electrical equipment. They cleared a big space in the observation dome, and began to install a replica of the equipment used on the Station for detection. No matter what kind of output Channing sent back, ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION they would be able to follow it to the bitter end. They made their installations in dupli- cate, with one piece of each equipment on opposite sides of the blunt dome. Balancing the inputs of each kind by turning the entire ship would give them a good indica- tion of direction. — Franks did not hope that the entire in- stallation could be completed before the signal came, but he was trying to outguess himself. by putting some of everything aboard. When and if it came, he would be either completely ready with everything or he at least would have a good start on any one of the number of detectors. If need be, the equipment from the Station itself could be removed and used to complete the mobile installation. Everything was in a complete state of nervous expectancy. Watchers watched, meter readers squinted for the barest wiggle, audio observers listened, trying to filter any kind of man-made note out of the irregular crackle that came in. And the Station announcing equipment was dead quiet, to be used only in case of emergency or to announce the first glimmer of radiation, whether it be material, electri- cal, kinetic, potential, or wave front. Long they listened—and then it came. The Station announcing equipment broke forth in a multitude of voices. “Sound input on radio.” “Visual indication on scanner plates!” “Distortion on electrostatic field indica- tor.” “Super-electroscopes charge!” “Nothing on the telescope!” There were mingled cheers and laughter as the speaker system broke away from the babel, and each group spoke its piece with no interference. ,Walt Franks left the ship at the South End’ and raced to the Beam Control dome, just as fast as the runway car would take him. He ran into the dome in spacesuit and flipped the helmet back over his shoulders. “What kind of indica- tion?” he yelled. Men crowded around him, offering him papers and shouting figures. “Gosh,” he said. “Don can’t have every- thing going up there.” ““He’s hit just about everything but the guy squinting through the ’scope.’ “What’s he doing?” asked Franks of no One in particular. indicate negative Ccomiclbooks.c©