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Updated: May 15, 2025
He had a proximity detector out, which would pick up any radiation caused by the cutting of magnetic lines of force by any object. It made very tiny whining noises from time to time. If anything from a Huk missile rocket to the salvage ship Aldeb approached, however, the sound would be distinctive. "Now that," said Sergeant Madden, "is the same thing that makes delinks.
"What's that got to do with the people on the Cerberus?" demanded the skipper. "It's our job to get them and the Cerberus back on the way to port!" "I know!" conceded Sergeant Madden, "and the girl my son Timmy's going to marry is one of them. But I don't think we'll have much trouble. Have you got any multipoly plastic on the Aldeb?" The skipper nodded, blankly.
Then he frowned, as if he were dissatisfied with what he'd said. He shook his head and made an impatient gesture. "No good," he said vexedly. "You can't say it. Hm-m-m ... I'll nap a while until the Aldeb gets here." He settled back to doze. Patrolman Willis regarded him with an odd expression.
The mouth of a mine shaft appeared, going horizontally into the cliff. Puffing from his exertions, Sergeant Madden went in. It was necessary if he were to make a routine examination. The Aldeb came in a full day later. It descended, following the space beacon the squad ship sent up from its resting place. The Aldeb was not an impressive sight, of course. It was a medium-sized police salvage ship.
And we'd left them without a thing to tell us that was important enough to mention unless they told us about the Cerberus. We had 'em baffled. They needed to say something, and that was the only thing they could say!" He yawned. "The Aldeb reports everybody on the Cerberus safe and sound, only frightened, and the skipper said Timmy's girl was less scared than most. I'm pleased.
"Meet you north pole farthest planet out this side of the sun. Right?" "I'll look for you there," said the skipper of the Aldeb. Sergeant Madden and Patrolman Willis went out of the salvage ship and trudged to the squad ship. They climbed in. "You got the co-ordinates?" asked the sergeant. "I copied them off the atlas," said Willis. Sergeant Madden settled himself comfortably.
Patrolman Willis had possibly cut it a trifle too fine. "Right," said the sergeant comfortably. "Now swing about to go back and meet the Aldeb. But wait." The stars and the monstrous white bowl reeled in their positions as the ship turned. Sergeant Madden felt that he could spare seconds, here. He ignored the polar regions of Sirene IV, hanging upside down to rearward from the squad ship.
"Hm-m-m," said Sergeant Madden, "we've nothing more to do right now, Willis. We'll go back to that hunk of ice you spotted comin' in, and wait for the Aldeb." Patrolman Willis obediently set the hop-timer and swung the squad ship to a proper aiming. He pressed the overdrive button. His manner, like that of Sergeant Madden, was the manner of someone conducting a perfectly routine operation.
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