"I never saw anything quite so pretty come out of this dump," said Kennely. "Who've you got on the wiring, Mac?"
"Same girls you always called solder slingers."
"Promote them to senior solder slingers. Come on, Chris, let's get Dick and Charlie to dolly these things into the lab."
The two engineers went back to their lab benches and began setting up test equipment.
Chris Devon's project was a simple station to be used by the Weather Bureau to collect climatological data in places where no co-operative observers could be obtained.
Brian Kennely's project, as always, was the more spectacular. It was a television remote indicating system for use over long distances or in cases of harmful effects to human observers at close range. It was particularly adaptable to radioactive chemistry.
When the two models were wheeled in, Kennely put the plugs for his transmitter and receiver units into the nearest receptacles and waited for the warm up. In a moment the dial needles began to swing over, and the engineer quickly adjusted the controls. The power supply seemed in order. The amplifiers were functioning properly. He switched in the sample instrument indicators, then the video pickup.
In a moment the receiver screen lighted in a blaze of color. He brought the meters into focus. They shone with the sharpness of a modern four-color print.
"What the devil?" Devon exclaimed. "I didn't know you were doing this in color. That's better stuff than the networks have yet."
"Oh, yes." Kennely's manner was his best cavalier style. "Remote chemistry, for example, would be almost impossible without color. This is not bad — for a first model."