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Take this to Warehouse Eight and get the requisitions filled. The clerk will lend you a hand truck to bring the stuff back." Rick found the warehouse, handed the forms to a clerk, and waited at the counter for the supplies. The clerk moved from bin to bin, collecting the variety of electronic parts. The pile in front of Rick grew. The clerk returned the last two sheets and scanned them.
Lunch over, Tom hopped a jet scooter and sped off to his private laboratory. The modernistic glass-walled structure designed by Tom himself had every tool of modern scientific research, from electronic microscope to helium cryostat. As always, whenever he was absorbed in a new idea, Tom was eager to get to work. "Let's see what I'm shooting for.
"Anything else?" "That does it. Thanks, Phil. I can wire it up now." Rick got to work, connecting up the newly installed servo. Like other servomotors it was tiny and powerful, translating electronic signals into mechanical actions. This particular one was no larger than a spool of thread, but it would actuate control tabs on the wings of Pegasus.
The electronic rays sending up their bolts.... Our platforms dropped some ten dynamitrine bombs in that first passage over the ship. As we sped by, I dimmed the Benson radiance. I peered. We had not hit the ship. Or if we had, the damage was inconclusive. But on the rocks I could see a pile of ore carts scattered broken wreckage, in which the litter of two or three projectors seemed strewn.
We had talked over our problems with the people at Wright Field who knew about missile-tracking equipment, and we had consulted the camera technicians at the Air Force Aerial Reconnaissance Laboratory. Astronomers explained their equipment and the techniques to use, and we went to Rome, New York, and Boston to enlist the aid of the people who develop the Air Force's electronic equipment.
Hitching a ride on a jet sled to the nearest slidewalk, they were soon being whisked along toward their quarters. Already, cadet units were standing around in fresh blues waiting for the call for final dress parade. At exactly fifteen hundred, the entire Cadet Corps stepped off with electronic precision for the final drill of the term.
I've never even heard of one. In fact, I know of only one analogue, and it's an electronic one. Do you know how computers work? The big electronic brains?" The three nodded. "Then you will understand. I have worked with computers, and now and then one of them suddenly starts turning out gibberish for no apparent reason. A check of the circuits may show that everything is functionally normal.
Variety in matter is simply a question of varying degrees of electronic activity, depending upon a number of ratios. Life itself, as well as materiality and force, comes out of the all-pervading ether. "This object here," touching the crystal, "is merely a conductor. It picks up the ether and sends it through a set degree of vibrational activity. Result? It makes iron!
It was a tiny transistor, an integral part of modern electronic apparatus. Mac took it in his big fingers. "Thanks. I must have stuck it in my pocket absent-mindedly while we were repairing the equipment." "Where do you go when you're on a field radar job?" Rick asked. "Just tell me to mind my own business, if I get into anything classified."
At the rear was a power port for inserting a small solar battery. "What about this little tuning knob?" Sandy asked. "That's the rate control for adjusting the output frequency to the wearer's breathing rate." Tom added, "I've decided to call the whole apparatus an 'electronic hydrolung." Chow pushed back his ten-gallon hat and scratched his head dubiously.
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