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Updated: May 2, 2025
The two tiny space wagons were 90 miles from the Platform, which was now merely a glittering speck, hardly brighter than the brightest stars. There was a flare of light to Earthward. It was brighter than the sun. The light vanished. Brown's voice came in the headphones, "Our missile went off 200 miles short! He sent an interceptor to set it off!" "Then he's dangerous," said Joe.
That meant the operator was a non-com which would make it a little easier. "Get me Lieutenant Allison at Mess 187. Make it quick." The operator did some plugging and after a bit came back with a report. "Lieutenant Allison has shifted to fighter group. He is at 155, Interceptor Base." "Get him!" Stan snapped. The operator began plugging again and Stan waited.
A few minutes after the calls began to come in, the tower operators themselves saw the same or a similar light and they called for an interceptor. An F-94 in the area was contacted and visually vectored to the light by the tower operators. The F-94 saw the light and started toward it, but suddenly it went out, "like somebody turning off a light bulb."
The pilot swung the F-94 around for another pass, and this time the radar operator reported a strong return. As they closed in, the F- 94's radar showed that the target was now almost stationary, just barely moving. The F-94 continued on, but the target seemed to make a sudden dive and they lost it. The pilot of the jet interceptor continued to search the area but couldn't find anything.
His hand moved a red lever and the Egg shimmered and vanished with a peculiar wrenching motion into an impossible direction that the mind could not grasp. And the interceptor missile from Otpen One nosed through the space the Egg had occupied. "We made it!"
The elapsed time since we had started our pursuit was two hours and ten minutes; I wanted to close to no more than a twenty mile gap before launching my missiles; and I had better alert my interceptor missiles in case the Mancji hit first. Thomas had the cover off the radar panel and was probing around. He pulled a blackened card out of the interior of the panel.
Your ship carries half a dozen long-range interceptor rockets to handle any attack from Earth. It's vitally important for them to be delivered." "They'll attack the Platform?" demanded Joe angrily. "That's war!" "Not if they deny guilt," said the major ironically, "and if we have nothing to gain by war. The Platform is intended to defend the peace of the world.
The voice of them was, at this distance, mute. The yacht glided on and still neither spoke, Clark was full of the thought that, for the second time in seven years, he had deliberately left his work. Four hours ago the thing would have seemed grotesque, but glancing at the bishop's broad back, he realized that here was a friendly interceptor to whom he had been wise to yield.
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