"What's he doing?" asked Franks of no one in particular.
One of the radiation engineers who had been busy with the electrostatic field indicator said: "I think maybe he's using some sort of electron gun—like the one you tried first off on the meteor-destroyer-job, remember?"
"Yeah, but that one wouldn't work—unless Don has succeeded in doing something that we couldn't do. Look, Charley, we haven't had time to set up a complete field indicator on the ship. Grab yours and give the boys a lift installing it, hey?"
"Sure thing."
"And look, fellows, any indication of direction, velocity, or distance?"
"Look for yourself," said the man on the beam scanner. "The whole plate is shining. We can't get a fix on them this way—they're radiating themselves and that means that our scanner-system finder is worthless."
"We can, but it's rough," offered one of the radio men. "It came from an area out beyond Terra—and as for our readings it might have covered a quarter of the sky."
"The field indicator is a short-base finder," explained Charley. "And no less rough than the radio boys. I'd say it was out beyond Terra by fifty million miles at least."
"Close enough. We'll have to track 'em down like a radio-equipped bloodhound. Charley, come along and run that mechanico-electro-monstrosity of yours. Gene, you can come along and run the radio finder. Oh yes, you, Jimmy, may continue to squint through that eyepiece of yours—but on the Relay Girl. We need a good, first-class squinter, and you should have an opportunity to help."
Jimmy laughed shortly. "The only guy on the Station that didn't get an indication was me. Not even a glimmer."