"Sure, if it's needed. I'd prefer Interplanetary Transport. Keg Johnson will do business with us. We've been in the way of helping them out a couple of million dollar losses; they might be anxious to reciprocate."
"O.K. I have your power of attorney, anyway. If I get in a real crack, I'll scream for I. T. to help. Right?"
"Right!"
Cartwright left, and as he closed the door, Channing's face took on a deep, long look. He was worried. He put his head between his hands and thought himself into a tight circle from which he could not escape. He did not hear Walt Franks enter behind Arden and Christine.
"Hey!" said Walt. "Why the gloom? I bear glad tidings!"
Channing looked up. "Spill," he said with a glum smile. "I could use some glad tidings right now."
"The lab just reported that that hunk of copper wire was impure. Got a couple of traces of other metals in it. They've been concocting other samples with more and less of the impurities, and Wes has been trying them as they were ready. We've got the detector working to the point where Freddie has taken the Relay Girl out for a run around the station at about five hundred miles and Wes is still getting responses!"
"Is he? How can he know?"
"Chuck rigged the Relay Girl's drivers with a voice modulator, and Freddie is jerking his head off because the acceleration is directly proportional to the amplitude of his voice, saying: 'One, two, three, four, test.' Don, have you ever figured out why an engineer can't count above four?"
"Walt, does it take a lot of soup to modulate a driver?" asked Arden.