The gravitic radio was calling: "—Haywire Queen. Calling Haywire Queen. This is Sandra Drake calling the Haywire Queen. This is an automatic transmission set for break-in. As soon as this call gets to you, answer please. The answer will register here and we will be able to make this two-way. This is Sandra Drake—"
"Uh-huh," said Hammond, turning down the gain to a reasonable level. "Larry, shoot her an answer."
Timkins snapped on the transmitter, tuned it to the same band, and said: "This is the Haywire Queen calling Sandra Drake. Haywire Queen answering Drake. Come in, Sandra Drake. Answer."
They listened to the automatic broadcast for some minutes, and then in the middle of a sentence—"This is Sandra Drake calling the Haywire Queen—" Click. "Hello, fellows. Got here finally, didn't you? Glad to have you come in. What's new?"
Hammond took the mike. "Hello, Sandra," he answered. "Nothing new. Where are you?"
"On planet number five. That is the one that I think is somewhere about five hundred million miles from Sirius. Know it?"
"We think so. It's dead ahead. Yeah, wait a minute. Larry has a directional bearing on you and it is the one we're approaching. That takes care of that."
"Well, come on in and I'll build you a cup of tea."
"You find everything all right?"
"Everything's perfect. Only thing, they would like to have someone here that knows all about the gravitics. They're not too sharp. Frankly, neither am I, so you're the guys who'll have to do it."