"Detector gang has picked up the drone," he announced to Lane.
"Ring the warning bell!"
The clangor of the warning bell shattered the air. Over the tactac of machinery and the rumble of heavy generators, it fell on waiting ears, and from all parts of the great projector there was a general rush to hit solid ground. A huge ring of men formed a hundred yards from the machine, and Downing entered the housing.
"Can we see better in here or out there?" he asked.
"In here," said Cliff. "The drone won't be within a ten light-sec range when we hit it. The celestial globe, here, has been juggled up to show both drone and projector. It's rough, but the lack of definition won't bother us. We can understand what's happening—and if it happens as we expect, we'll see it go blooey and be able to reconstruct the event. Stick around."
Linzete came and stood beside them. "I think the sawtooth is not of the proper shape," he suggested.
"Perhaps not," agreed Lane. "But to put any sharper break on it will require another high-power driver stage. I'm hoping it will be adequate."
"The recovery time may seem slow," added Downing. "But remember how much distance it controls."
Linzete nodded dubiously. He was not the type to argue. If these gadget-mad Terrans were going to ruin a second-rate ship on the first try, well, they'd find out soon enough. He hoped they had a stock of radio-controlled drones. They'd need them.
They had—and they probably would need them.