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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Stay away from Algon," he rapped out when the scientist's face appeared on the screen. "Don't send that ship until you get permission. Just forget all about even having heard of Algon!" The elder looked questioningly at the youthful civilian giving him such orders. "I don't know ..." "Hawarden speaking," the admiral pushed Hanlon aside and glared into the screen. "That's an order!
Next came the light cruisers, in the same formation, but when they englobed at Algon they would go inside the globe of scouts, nearer the planet's surface. Then the heavy cruisers and battleships would descend in three mass formations, one directly over each of the three known shipyards.
As the ship braked for the landing on Simonides he completed his calculations, and was quite sure the distance between the two planets was twelve and a quarter light years, plus or minus not over two percent, and that Algon was somewhere near right ascension eighteen hours, and declination plus fifteen degrees.
Did you know about all the warships he was building on Algon?" "Ships? On Algon?" The surprises were coming too fast for Philander to adjust to them. "Yes. Did you think your mine was all there was there? We know of nine mines of one kind or another, a number of factories, smelters, and three great shipyards. Incidentally, everything is now in the hands of the Corps."
Admiral Hawarden turned to his communicators, and orders rapped out. "You'll have to tell me procedure here, sir, for I don't know how to get what I need. I want to recommend that the entire Corps fleet rendezvous near here immediately so we can go to a planet called Algon, and take it over. But first we'll have to find out exactly where in space Algon is.
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