"You recognize it?"
"No—no, it's vaguely familiar, but—"
"I know it, sir," the radioman said. "It's an old folksong, The Quaker's Wooing."
"Why is it so faint?" asked Colin.
"He must be a hell of a ways off-mike," said the tech. "Clear at the other end of the control room, I'd say."
"Turn down that damned noise," said Banning. The radioman twisted his controls back to medium range, and the thunderous hissing roar of the speakers died away.
"Well," said Banning, "nothing. We shoulda stood in bed."
"I'm not so sure," Colin answered. "After all, he did start to transmit, and that's more than we've had since he landed. I think we'd better keep it up."
"All right. Keep at it, sergeant."
"Yes, sir."