"Dad, you wrote a report on the generator for the government with a memo on possible ways to combat it," Tom went on. "Maybe the same measures would work in this case."
The Swifts had discovered that their enemy had been intercepting Tom's messages, thereby learning the frequency to which the Swifts' receiver was tuned. They then radiated a signal at this frequency, modulated at the frequency to which the local oscillator was set. This had caused a buildup of energy in the I. F. transformers, resulting in their explosion.
Now Mr. Swift said, "You're right, son. We'll insert a blocking filter in the R. F. stage that should do the trick."
Their minds relieved of this problem, the Swifts were eagerly looking forward to the arrival of the brain energy from space the next day. The scheduled time, if pinpointed at exactly two weeks from the moment when the first message was received, would be half an hour past noon.
The spot, two miles from Enterprises, was on a lonely hillside. It was shaded by trees, higher up the slope, with bushes and other wild-growing greenery softening its contours. Over the week end, Tom had had carpenters from Enterprises put up a small cabin at the foot.
As twelve-thirty approached, Tom, Bud, Mr. Swift, Hank Sterling, Arv Hanson, and several other Swift technicians stood by at the scene with the star-headed container. Chow had also begged to be on hand.
"I jest got to see Ole Think Box come to life!" he said.
Eyes darted back and forth from wrist watches to sky as the zero moment ticked closer. Bud even began muttering a countdown.
"X minus three... X minus two... X minus one... This is it!"
All eyes flashed skyward. But nothing happened! Not a speck showed in the blue, cloudless sky.