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Updated: May 25, 2025
He knew that someone or something had picked up Vale's communicator. More squeakings, somehow querulous. Then something pounded the communicator on the ground. There was a crash. Then silence. Almost calmly Lockley swung his instrument around and lined it up for Sattell's post. He called in a steady voice until Sattell answered.
"Maybe," said Jill, "you can figure out a way to prevent that high frequency generation." He shrugged. Jill frowned as she followed him. She hadn't forgotten Vale, but she owed some gratitude to Lockley. Womanlike, she tried to pay part of it by urging him to do something he considered impossible. "At least," she suggested, "it can't be a death ray!" Lockley looked at her.
He felt he'd been made a fool of. But there are some things that can't be handled forthrightly!" Lockley felt physically ill. Jill had been still was engaged to Vale. She'd been anxious about him. She'd been loyal to him. And he was helping the invaders! He opened his mouth to speak bitterly, when Sattell appeared. He lined up beside the general and Vale.
"And where is she to be found?" asked the skipper. "At the Martins', no doubt," replied Mrs Lockley, with a meaning look. "She's been there pretty much ever since poor Fred Martin came home, looking after old granny, for Mrs Martin's time is taken up wi' nursing her son. They say he's pretty bad." "Then I'll go an' see about it at once," said Stephen, rising, and setting Tottie down.
They felt queer, making free with this house of a stranger. They felt that he might come in and be indignant with them. "I ought to wash the dishes," said Jill when they were finished. "No," said Lockley. "We go on. We need to find some soldiers, or a telephone that works...." "I'm not a good dishwasher anyhow," said Jill guiltily.
"Of course we was told the moment we came alongside the wharf this mornin', that somebody had bin blowin' half a gale o' lies about it, but Stephen Lockley ain't drownded, not he, an' don't mean to be for some time. He was aboard of the Sunbeam at the time his wessel went down an' all the rest of 'em, except poor Jay an' Hawkson, an' we've brought 'em all ashore.
She even looked proud as she watched Lockley wrestling with his problem, unconsciously snapping his fingers. "Vale and I," he said jerkily, "had electronic base-measuring instruments. Some of their elements had to be buried in plastic because otherwise they ionized the air and leaked current like a short. If I had that instrument now No.
In nine-tenths of the world, anyhow, civilians aren't allowed to have guns. But think of the consequences there!" Lockley was weary. He was dejected. The general grinned from ear to ear. "Why, when these are distributed, even the secret police can't go armed! What price dictators then? For that matter, what price soldiers?
It was going through the space where the road was blocked by a terror beam, headed obviously for Boulder Lake. What had happened was self-evident. From her place beside the huge stump she'd seen a military car approaching. And she and Lockley had been trying to reach the cordon of troops around Boulder Lake. There was no reason to distrust men in uniform or in a military car.
"We know of six men who were captured," insisted Lockley, "and I was one of them. All six escaped. Vale may have escaped. They're not good at keeping prisoners. We don't know and can't know unless it's mentioned on a news broadcast that he's out and away. So there's absolutely no reason to assume that Vale is dead." "But if he saw them, when he was fighting them "
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