"What's the meaning of this?" demanded Connel, his face reddening with rage.
Astro turned and looked the major right in the eye. "Major," he said calmly, "this man just made a teleceiver call—a transspace call to Venusport."
"Well, what about it?" cried Barret.
"Sir," said Astro, unruffled by Barret's screaming protest, "this man spoke of getting at something, and that he was unable to do so, because he might be burned to a cinder. And the other party would have to wait until he found an opening."
"What!" exclaimed Connel, turning to look at Barret. "What is the meaning of this, Barret?"
"Why, that knuckle-headed baboon!" yelled Barret. "Sure, I made a transspace call to Venusport—to the Venusian Atomic By-Products Corporation."
"What was the call about?" demanded Connel.
The guards had not moved and the workers in the hangar were now gathering around the small knot of men by the teleceiver booth.
"Why—I—"
"Come on, man!" shouted Connel. "Out with it."