"Hey, Walt," came the voice of Chuck Thomas. "The intensity of Don's beam has been cut to about one-quarter and is now continuous. Does that mean anything?"
"Might mean trouble for them. Either they're running out of soup and mean for us to hurry up, or they assume we're close enough to obviate the need for high power. We'd better assume they want haste and act accordingly. How're the boys on the radio detectors coming along?"
"Fine. They've taken over the direction finding and claim that we are right on their tail."
"Anything in the sights, Jimmy?"
"Not yet. But the electroscope boys claim that quarter power or not, the input is terrific."
"Take a rest, Jimmy. We won't be there for a while yet. No use burning your eyes out trying to see 'em. There'll be time enough for you to do your share after we get 'em close enough to see with the naked eye. What do the beam-scanners say?"
"Shucks," answered the man on the scanners, "they're still radiating. How are we going to fix 'em on a reflected wave when they're more powerful on their own hook? The whole plate is glaring white. And, incidentally, so is the celestial globe in the meteor spotter. I've had to cut that or we'd never be able to hold this course. Anything like a meteor that comes in our way now will not register, and—"
The Relay Girl lurched sickeningly. All over the ship, things rattled and fell to the floors. Men grabbed at the closest solid object, and then the Relay Girl straightened out once more.
"Whoosh!" said Franks. "That was a big one!"
"Big one?" called Jimmy. "That, my friend, was none other than the Ariadne!"