I stood up and stripped off my rubber gloves. I said, "I've done everything I know how. I've had the thing apart twice and put it together again. It won't work—and for one simple reason. The seleno-aluminum plate is shot."
Chief Garrity said, "Then get ye a new one, lad."
"Right. As soon," I told him, "as we cradle into Sun City spaceport."
The skipper looked like he'd bitten into an apple and found a worm. "You mean we're not going to hear the game?"
"That's exactly what I—" Then I paused. "Wait a minute! There's a faint possibility we might. If his invention really works. He has a spare plate in his quarters, but he'll have to install it. I don't know how."
"He?" yelled the Old Man. "Who? The man in the moon?"
"The man in the doghouse," I corrected. "Biggs."
"Biggs!" The skipper's look changed. Now he looked like a man who'd bitten into an apple and found half a worm. But he turned to Dick Todd. "Go get him, Mister Todd," he ordered.
Todd left. We all watched the clock. Todd returned, bringing with him L. Biggs, ex-exile. The skipper glared daggers at his First Mate.
"I hear you've an invention, Mister Biggs," he said caustically. "I distrust it. It may turn out like some of your other brain-children. But this is no time to be choosey. Attach it. And be kind enough to look at the radio controls instead of my daughter!"