"Any real news value in it?"
I shook my head. "Feature story, maybe, but it's pretty run-of-the-mill stuff, even at that."
"Well, stay with it," Newell said. "Just in case nothing pops on this telenosis deal. And get that defense mech as soon as possible."
"Do I get a real vacation after this is all over?" I asked, knowing what the answer would be.
"Scram," Newell replied. "I'm a busy man. Get going!"
Late afternoon of the next day, my defense mechanism was ready. They had taken a reading of my brain wave with a makeshift electroencaphalograph, and then a couple of electronics boys had tinkered around until they had a gadget that would throw out vibrations on exactly my wave-band.
Of course, not having any telenosis equipment, we weren't able to make a real check of the contraption's effectiveness. I had to take the technologists' word that it would work.
Frankly, I didn't feel any too well defended as I hopped the five o'clock stratoliner back to Palm Beach.
The defense mech was enclosed in a black case that looked like a portable radio or a portable typewriter or a small suitcase. When you opened the lid, there was a flat surface having only one dial—for volume. The vibrations had a radius of about three-quarters of a mile.