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Updated: May 20, 2025
Back and forth the bantering had gone for twelve hours, while the three members of the Polaris unit tested, checked, adjusted, and rechecked the many different circuits, relays, junction boxes, and terminals in the miles of delicate wiring woven through the ship.
They checked and rechecked their instruments, but could find no factor that might have induced false readings. They let other scientists in on their findings, hoping that these outsiders might be able to put their fingers on errors that had been overlooked.
The reports were investigated, and the stories checked and rechecked. When airline crews began to turn in one UFO report after another, it was difficult to believe the old "hoax, hallucination, and misidentification of known objects" routine. In April, May, and June of 1950 there were over thirty-five good reports from airline crews.
It had all been as nice as it could be, and he said so again and again to Birkwall, who would go to the train with him, and who would not let him carry his own hand-bag. The good fellow clung hospitably to it, after Gaites had rechecked his trunk for Kent Harbor, and insisted upon carrying it as they walked up and down the platform together at the station.
The fabulous world of rocketry narrowed to a maze of wiring, circuit after circuit, checking, testing, and calling for test signals from the blockhouse. Rick checked and rechecked, following closely on Gee-Gee's heels. He missed nothing, took nothing for granted. Once he snapped, "Wait a minute! You didn't check that circuit properly. Check for polarization as well as contact."
They missed no one. Even the security officers and guards were rechecked. Then they started a program to find out who on the base had any talent as an artist. Nothing was found. The security chief sent photos of the etched picture and the whole bar mechanism to every security agency in the government, including the FBI, Central Intelligence, and the military. He drew a blank.
It is my hard fate always to sacrifice affection and pleasure to duty and work. January 7. All the baggage had to be rechecked at Omaha and when I insisted upon attending to my own, because I had found that the only safe way, Mr. Sargent looked so offended that I at once handed over my checks. January 8.
He called for Dowst, then carried the instrument to the center of the cross formed by the four men. Using the instrument, he rechecked the lines from the center out. They were within a hair or two of being exactly on, and a slight error wouldn't hurt, anyway. He knew he would have to correct with rocket blasts once the asteroid was in the new orbit. "X marks the spot," he told Dowst.
"Show an exhaust, Corporal. High vack is waiting!" Rip's Planet Rip rechecked his space suit before putting on his helmet. The air seal was intact, and his heating and ventilating units worked. He slapped his knee pouches to make sure the space knife was handy to his left hand, the pistol to his right. Koa was already fully dressed.
"How is it you can go around so freely?" he asked abruptly. "I have to be checked and rechecked." "You'll get a full clearance," she told him. "It has to go through channels. Me I have influence. I always come in through security, and I have the door guards trained. And I do have business in the Platform." He turned his head to look at her. "Interior decoration," she explained. "And don't laugh!
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