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is mind
he was back in the research shack, staring into the unearthly
bluish light of a radio scope which painted something that should
not have been there. Had not been there when he had begun his
initial search for the pleasure yaght enroute to the capitol and
carrying a most human bit of cargo that he had waited for with
trepedation. But abruptly there when he had twisted controls to
increase the scopes sensitivity, appearing dim, nearly indis-
cernable, masked by the stronger return of the ship he had
searched for and appearing almost as a ghost.
He swore silently to himself. So much had not been done,
could not be done; was not done and he was not certain why. He
could have radioed in his first observations, irregardless of what
he thought he had seen. But the sighting had been too brief. And
although he had re-run the calculations that would mask the star
field patterns and present him with a clearer contact, he had
neglected, still, to make any kind of call for a kind of indepen-
dent verification, just glared at the screen as if it were lying
to him. When he had finally broken his stupor, moved to reset the
scope, make the call, the screen had become a hash of sig
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