The next thing Curtis knew, he was in a ship's cabin in bed, his wounded shoulder incased in a comfortable surgical dressing. A brown-skinned Filipino mess boy poked his head in and grinned in friendly fashion. On his cap, Curtis read the lettering "U. S. S. Lexington" and knew that he must have been taken on board the big aircraft carrier.
The mess boy ducked out as quietly as he had looked in, and a few minutes later, the Lexington's commander entered.
"Congratulations!" he said cordially, after asking Curtis how he felt. "Everything worked out perfectly. The new helicopter had its first chance to demonstrate its efficiency and came through a hundred percent. You were right also in your theory that the Lexington's power cables, with their tremendous current-carrying capacity, would shatter the rays into worthless junk. The power from our cables kicked back on Androka's invention and smashed it!"
Curiosity prompted Curtis to ask a question. "What ... what became of Androka? Did he—" He paused as he saw the gleam of horror in the other man's eyes!
"Androka got panicked," the commander of the Lexington said, "when he saw that the Comerford had been surrounded by the fighting vessels of the British convoy, and he knew that both his inventions were wrecked. I guess seeing Nelson dead softened him up, too."
"So what did Androka do?" Curtis asked. "Blow up the ship?"
The Lexington's commander shook his head slowly. "No; he blew himself up—in his work-room—with some explosives he'd been experimenting with!"
Curtis leaned back on his pillows. The excitement of listening to the other's story had made him a little tense. He felt he needed to relax.