"I want confirmation of messages forty-eight and forty-nine," he snapped. "What fool let 'em get this far?"
"What happened?" asked the superior officer mildly.
"I got forty-eight on the tape before I came to forty-nine," explained the signal officer. "I grabbed the tape just as it was hitting the master transmitter. The tape-end raised hell, I think. Default alarms are ringing all over the building. But who—?"
"It was my fault—I'll confirm in writing—that forty-eight was not preceded by an official sanction. You were quite correct in stopping them at any cost. As soon as the outfit is on the air again, send 'em both."
"Yeah, but look—"
"Orders, Manley."
"I'll follow 'em," said Signal Officer Manley, "but may I ask why?"
"You may, according to the Book of Regs, but I'm not certain of the reason myself. Frankly, I don't know. I questioned them myself, and got the same blunt answer."
"The whole terran sector has been slaving for years to keep this proposition from happening," grumbled Manley. "For years we have been most careful to stop any possible slipup. Now I find that the first time it ever gets down as far as my position and I leap into the breach like a hero, I'm off the beam and the stuff is on the roger."
"I'll give you a Solar Citation for your efforts," offered the superior ruminatively. "I know what you mean. We've been trying to keep it from happening by mere chance. And all of a sudden comes official orders, not happenstance, but ordering it. Let's both give up."