As Wilson hung up the dome flickered, then went into a regular flash-flash-flash until something else came unglued and the dome went blank. There was shouting and rather heart-felt cussing, and some running around again before the dome light came back.
A tech—not the one that had come up before—moved into place alongside the commodore.
"Mr. Wilson, sir," he said, "I wonder if—er—That is, sir—er—"
"Take it easy," said Wilson, half-smiling.
"Well, sir, we've been getting a lot of interference."
Wilson looked up at the flickering dome. He merely nodded.
"Well, sir—er—I was wondering if you could issue some—er—order to have the other ships move away? I'm sure we could find those lifeships if the rest of space were clear. But you've got three hundred—"
Wilson stared the youngster down coldly. "Somewhere out there," he said sourly, "are two lifeships in which men, and a woman, are waiting for us to come and collect 'em. I'm combing space almost inch by inch. I can hardly give up my squadron for a half-finished flash in the dome like this, can I?"
"No sir—ah—I suppose not."