With a sigh Roger turned back to the set. With trembling fingers he
reconnected the terminals and made delicate adjustments on the many
dials. Finally, as power began to flow through the proper chain of
circuits, the radar scanner glowed into life and the hair-thin line of
light swept around the dull green surface of the scope. It had been left
on a setting covering two hundred miles around the space station, and
seeing the area was clear, Roger increased the range to five hundred
miles. The resulting scan sent a sudden chill down his spine. A
spaceship was roaring toward the station at full thrust!
Cold sweat beaded Roger's forehead as he grabbed for the microphone and
called Tom.
"Radar bridge to control deck!" The words tumbled out frantically. "Tom!
Tom! There's a ship heading right for the station! Bearing 098! Distance
450 miles! Coming in on full thrust! Tom, acknowledge! Quick!"
Down on the control deck, Tom had been watching a space freighter easing
out of the station when Roger's voice came over the speaker in a thin
scream.
"What?" he yelled. "Give me that again, Roger!"
"Spaceship bearing 098--full thrust! Range now four twenty-five!"
"By the craters of Luna," shouted Tom, "why didn't you pick her up
sooner, Roger?"
"Never mind that.
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