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Updated: May 19, 2025
"And yet I can remember," said the girl, laughing, "an occasion when explanations were made to a young lady from Boston and explanations that took some time, too. I even I can bear witness to that." "My life," Smith rejoined, "has been like that of a candidate for office, such that he who runs may read and he need not necessarily be a ten-second sprinter, either.
"Give me a ten-second burst on the starboard steering rockets," ordered Connel, gripping the steering vane control tightly. "Coming up!" There was a sudden, jolting blast from the stern and Connel and Hemmingwell hung on grimly as the mighty ship turned in space.
Parke was a ten-second hundred-yard man in college, and still retains his remarkable speed of foot. He hits his drive while running at top speed and translates his weight to the ball. It shoots low and fast down the line. It is a marvellous stroke. Parke's volleying is steady and well placed but not decisive. His overhead is reliable and accurate, but lacks "punch."
His early days were eventful for his athletic success, as he won all kinds of professional prizes for short distance running. Boyhood friends of Mike Murphy tell of the comradeship among Mike Murphy, Keene Fitzpatrick, Pooch and Piper Donovan all Natick boys. They give glowing accounts of the "truck team" consisting of this clever quartet, each of whom were "ten-second" men in the sprinting game.
Above his head, the teleceiver screen brought him a clear picture of the Academy spaceport. He watched the giant cruisers take to the air one by one and rocket into the vastness of space. The clock hand reached the ten-second mark. "Stand by to raise ship!" Tom called into the intercom. The red hand moved steadily, inexorably. Tom reached for the master switch.
Cochrane had had to put up his own money to have the nearside lunar observatory put a low-power telescope to watch the rocket's flight. In theory, this distress-rocket should make a twenty-mile streak of relatively long-burning red sparks. A tiny auto-beacon in its nose was set to send microwave signals at ten-second intervals. On the face of it, it had looked like a rather futile performance.
Captain Alden's and Rrisa's shots produced still other blurs of virescence. Then, as they all waited, crouching, came another and another tiny explosion, high aloft, at precisely ten-second intervals. Here, there, they developed, until twenty-nine of these strange, bubble-like things had burst above and all about the huge enclosure. Then darkness and silence once more settled down.
In half an hour, all the ships were in space, and at a given signal, at ten-second intervals, they sprang into the superspeed, faster than light. For an instant, giant Mira ran and seemed distorted, as though seen through a porthole covered with running water, then steadied, curiously distorted. Faster than light they raced across the galaxy.
Cameras were grinding steadily, with long range telescopic lenses, delicate instruments probed and felt and caught their fingers in the fields of the giant fleet. At ten-second intervals, giant ships popped into being, and glided smoothly toward Jupiter. Then the cruisers arrived. They halted at a respectful distance, and waited. The Miran ships plowed on undisturbed.
Tom sat in front of the control panel, strapped himself into the acceleration chair, and began checking the dials and gauges. Satisfied everything was in order, he fastened his eyes to the sweeping red second hand on the solar clock. The teleceiver screen brought a sharp picture of the surrounding base of the spaceship, and he saw that it was all clear. The second hand reached the ten-second mark.
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