"How's Scyth?" he asked.
"He's doing all right. How're you doing?"
Dusty nodded boyishly. "Look, Maw I'm flyin'," he told her with a
chuckle. "Martin Gramer should see me now. This is simple like a duck's
ear, and I--"
Barbara screamed and Dusty whipped his head back to look along the
direction of her horrified eyes. To the viewpanel.
One of the stars, lost in the glitter of the distant background had
detached itself from the immobile sky. It was moving, forward, and its
glow was brightening. It came hurtling towards them like a white hot
cannonball. One second it was no more than any other star, distant,
aloof, and cold. Then it had exploded into a disc that expanded like a
released puff of gas. It came toward them like a ball of fire hurled
into their faces.
Dusty yelped and twisted on the 'Tee' bar and the stars rolled dizzily
across the plate--but not until the white hot monster had flipped past
in a quick wave of heat and a final flare of light which made a small
section in the back of Dusty's mind recall the effect of having a
foil-filled flashbulb fired during a still photography session.
Shaking, Dusty's grip on the 'Tee' bar tightened and he moved the lever
in tight little jerks until the stars returned to the proper positions
and the Phanobeacon was properly centered.