"I have," she said, sensing his meaning. "Matter of fact, I've got the
latest thing in alphatrons--two of 'em. And all the E-grav generators
we'll need are all tacked into what I think are the right places to
make this crate into a super-speed job. There are spares for all three
fields, and a couple of spare cupralum bars, too. Even part of the
wiring is done. I got just so far and then realized that I don't know
too much about gravitics. That's when I decided to come here for help."
"Good thing," said McBride. "You might have killed yourself."
Sandra didn't answer, and at that moment, McBride's men came with their
tools. Wordlessly, they nodded to Sandra and then followed McBride into
the _Lady Luck_.
* * * * *
McBride wasted no time. "Al," he said, "you fit the mag-G for vertical
bi-lobar field to cover the nose of the crate with the top lobe, and
Westy, you see that the mech-G generator in the nose induces the proper
vectors in the cupralum bar. I'll get Hank and Jim to touch up the
wiring and safety devices. We'll have this crate back in space within
the hour!"
"Working a little fast, aren't you?" asked Sandra.
"No. I don't think so. You've got most of the main stuff in place. It's
merely a matter of running the alphatron lines correctly--remember,
Sandra, alphons are not electrons and even low-alphon lines require
smooth, round bends, otherwise they squirt off in a crackling alphonic
discharge that will eat the side out of a steel tank. You've done most
of the heavy work. It just requires touching up here and there: getting
the proper field-intensity out of the gravitic generators and adjusting
the output of the alphatrons. Then there is some tricky relay work with
the safety circuits: it wouldn't improve your beauty to suddenly find
yourself sitting in the pilot's chair at seven thousand gravities."
Sandra shuddered.
"Oh, and look, since you've got the compensator. You'll find a
static-charge meter handy, perhaps. If there are planets around Sirius,
who knows what their intrinsic charge is. We'll loan you one so that
you can make planet without making a corona at the same time. Rarefied
air makes pretty lights when it comes under a few trillion volts--and
being a cathode is no worse than being an anode when your voltage is
running up into a bushel of zeroes--either is equally disconcerting.
How do you intend to spot any planets?"
"I've got a pair of hemisphere lenses. I'll sail through the Sirian sky
at about forty thousand miles per second and expose for ten minutes.
The stars will still appear as spots, but anything close enough to be
planet-wise will make streaks unless it is dead ahead.
"In which case you'll see it personally," grinned McBride. "That's the
best stunt I've heard of yet to find planets."
"It isn't new. They used it to see if there were any planets outside
of Pluto several years ago, though they exposed for several hours while
running at ten or fifteen thousand. Steve has a pair of hemis with him,
too."
Al came trudging in with a roll of alphon cable over his shoulder and
dropped it on the floor. "She's in--my end, anyway."
"Running already?"
"On test power. Drake had the bi-lobar field almost on the ball. Westy
found about the same thing. I think another couple of days and Drake
wouldn't have needed help."
"I couldn't make it work," complained Sandra.
"Well, you missed a few minor points," said Al. "Never, never run
alphon lines anywhere near a relay rack. It induces crosscurrents
in the windings and either makes 'em more sensitive or almost dead,
depending on the polarity. It won't hurt AC relays, but they aren't
used too much on a space-ship, so it's best to play safe."
"I'll remember that, too," Sandra promised him.
"O.K."
* * * * *
And so an hour passed, and another one added to it before the _Lady
Luck_ was fitted for super drive. It was finished, then, and Sandra
Drake was more than voluble in her thanks.
"Never mind the thanks," said McBride, "or we'll be into that original
wrangle as to who owes who what kind of a favor. Where we sit out here
in the lens, favors are not weighted and set down as an asset. Forget
it. G'wan out there and get Steve Hammond--and do not forget for one
minute I'm coming after you if you're gone more than thirty days. Seven
hundred and twenty hours! Get me?"
"Sure thing," said Drake. "And, John, you're pretty swell."
"Nuts!"
"All right, 'Nuts!' But some day I'm going to settle down and be a good
girl, and then you can believe me."
"That, I'll believe when I see it. Go on, Sandra, go out and get Steve."
"I'll get Steve," promised Sandra. "Oh, but definitely."
"Well, good luck."
"Thanks."
The space lock closed, and the men retreated inside of the Station's
air lock. The gigantic doors swung open, letting a huge puff of air out
into space. Then the _Lady Luck_ lifted gracefully for all of her tons
of mass, and wafted out through the opened door. It was a dead-center
passage, one that could be made only with a master pilot running the
board personally.
Then she was gone. Halfway around the lens she would have to go
before Sirius came into a safe line of flight. Sandra was taking no
more chances on contacting the surface of that mighty space-warp that
focused Sol on Pluto.