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"That doesn't mean getting thrown out of the hotel because you've got to make passes at every beautiful girl." "What's the matter with beautiful girls?" growled Roger. "They're official equipment, like a radar scanner. You can't get along without them!" Tom and Astro looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Come on, you jerk," said Astro, "let's get washed up.
As he turned to the scanner upon it, Odin saw that while it looked familiar enough there was one exotic thing about it. Toward the outskirts of the city, in the bend of a wide river, was the Taj Mahal. He felt nearly as bewildered as he had been when Nea explained her theories of the Time-Space Concept to him.
On the radar deck Roger kept his eyes glued to the radar scanner and posted Tom on the altitude as the ship drew closer and closer to the ground. "One thousand feet!" yelled Roger over the intercom. "Nine hundred eight seven six " "Open main rockets one half!" called Tom. "Reduce rate of fall!"
"Where's the rest of the fleet?" roared Strong. "Why aren't they here yet?" "I don't know, sir," replied Tom, "but if they don't show up soon, there won't be much left to save!" "Bandits dead ahead," droned the voice from the radar bridge calmly, "trying to envelop us." Tom's hand shot out for the intercom to relay orders to the power deck and glanced quickly at the scanner. He almost cheered.
He drank more coffee, chain-smoked cigarettes; he rose and prowled about the command room, looking at screens. Signals-and-detection was getting a lot of routine stuff Van Allen count, micrometeor count, surface temperature, gravitation-field strength, radar and scanner echoes. He went back to his chair and sat down, staring at the screen-image.
From the radar room he watched the Plumie place an object in the air lock and withdraw. He watched from a scanner inside the ship as someone brought in what the Plumie had left. An electronics man bustled forward. He looked it over quickly. It was complex, but his examination suddenly seemed satisfying to him. But a grayish vapor developed and he sniffed and wrinkled his nose.
Seated in front of the scanner screen on the control deck of the rocket cruiser Polaris, Captain Steve Strong replaced the microphone in its slot and watched a bulky figure in a space suit step out of the air lock and drift away from the side of the ship.
Before Strong could issue an order countering the enemy move, the voice of the commander of the Pleiades came in over the audioceiver, "Our meat, Strong, you take care of the big baby!" On the scanner screen Strong saw the trails of two space torpedoes erupt from the side of the Pleiades, followed immediately by two more from its flanking ship, the Regulus.
They hadn't and couldn't have the enormous capacity Baird had expected. He was astounded. When he returned to the Niccola, he went instantly to the radar room to make sure that pictures taken through his scanner had turned out well. And there was Diane. But the skipper's voice boomed at him from the wall. "Mr. Baird! What have you to add to the information you sent back?"
"We want this on record," he growled, staring about. Diane's voice said capably from a speaker somewhere nearby: "Sir, there's a scanner for inspection of objects brought aboard. Hold the plate flat and I'll have a photograph right!" The skipper said curtly to the Plumie: "You've drawn our two ships linked as they are. What have you to say about it?" He handed back the plate.
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