There was a pause at the other end, then Masterson said: "Mac, I hate to say this, but you've got a hot potato on your hands. That thing's in a cometary orbit!"
"Cometary?"
"That's right. Instead of a normal, near-circular path, she's going in an elongated ellipse. At perigee, she'll be less than a hundred and fifty miles above the surface."
"Uh!" MacIlheny felt as though someone had slugged him. If the satellite went that low, the air resistance would slow her even more before she broke free again. Each successive passage through the atmosphere would slow her more and more until she finally fell to Earth. If she fell into the ocean, that would be bad enough; but if she hit a populated area....
Fortunately, by that time her velocity would be considerably cut down; if she were to hit the atmosphere with her present velocity, the shock wave alone would be disastrous.
"Okay," said MacIlheny at last. "Notify every observatory within sight range of her orbit! Keep a check on her every foot of the way! We'll have to send up a drone."
"Right!" There was a subdued click as Masterson hung up.
MacIlheny turned. Blake was standing beside him. "I've got White Sands on the line, Mac."
MacIlheny flashed an appreciative grin. "Thanks, Blake." He went to Blake's office and closed the door. In the screen of the visiphone, he saw the face of Paul Loch, of Commercial Rockets, Inc., White Sands.