"I don't know," said Barbara doubtfully. "Try something."
"What?" he asked.
She pointed to a small button high on the front panel beside the glazed plate. It said, "SC/WBN-3 Phanoband 22".
Dusty looked at the nameplate and the menslator helped him translate the nameplate into "Space, Commercial/Non-adjustable, High-power, Emergency—Model Three. Phanoband Twenty-Two."
Dusty looked at Barbara and shrugged. This was an emergency, so Dusty put out a forefinger and pressed the button.
A pilot lamp winked from blue to red and a meter on the forepanel rose. There was a momentary whirring from far below in the big star ship and then along the bottom of the ground-glass looking window in front of him, a small circle began to grow luminous. A man's face appeared.
He was obviously in some sort of uniform; it had that air. The collar was high and the effect was uncomfortable. A pair of gold diagrams glistened on one shoulder. The man looked human enough to be the local desk-sergeant in costume dress. As soon as the little circle was completely clear he said tersely:
"Distress Call received. Identify yourself, state your position, define your danger, and estimate the time remaining in which you have a factor of safety."
Dusty blinked and then looked at Barbara. She shrugged. Dusty shrugged back and said, "Are you Marandis?"
"This is Marandis Emergency. Identify yourself, state your pos—"