It was a dangerous situation.
Within the Pluto Lamp a hundred relays clicked and buzzed. Automatic switches closed. The power pack, deep in the body of the beacon hummed with sudden power. Even Knucklebone Smith seemed slightly interested. But nothing happened.
The ship's signal came in loud and clear once more. "This is Luna Star. Come in, robot station Pluto Lamp. Come in Pluto Lamp."
Salvor-Jones sprang for the manual switch and flicked it on. "Luna Star," he screamed, "Do you read me? This is Pluto Lamp. Do you read me?"
"This is Luna Star. We understand the robot station is now in operation, but manned. Come in if you are there."
"Luna Star, do you read me?" They waited a long, tense minute. There was no answer. "We're not getting through," Salvor-Jones said.
Knucklebone cleared his throat. "There's a red light on over at the emergency panel. Would that have anything to do with it?"
"You imbecile!" Salvor-Jones said, "Why didn't you say so. It's the antenna. I knew it. I knew there'd be trouble with the antenna! A meteorite must have damaged it."
"I guess this thing ain't going to work," Knucklebone said. "We've been here only a couple of weeks, and look what happens. I never thought it would be any good anyway."
Salvor-Jones bared his teeth. "There isn't a storm like this one every twenty-five years," he growled. "Don't sit there; we've got to go up on the dome. No! Stay where you are. I don't want this job botched." He began to struggle into his exposure suit.