In one motion Heselton's chair snapped forward, his right fist hit the red emergency alert button on his desk, and his left snapped on the ship's intercom. Lights dimmed momentarily as powerful emergency drive units snapped into action, and the ship echoed with the sound of two thousand men running to battle stations. "Bridge to radar! Report." "Radar to bridge. All clear." Heselton stared incredulously at the intercom. "What?" "Radar to bridge, repeating. All clear. Admiral, we've got two men on every scope, there's nothing anywhere." A new voice cut in on the speaker. "Radio track to bridge." Frowning, Heselton answered. "Bridge. Come in radio track. We're listening." "Sir," the crisp voice of the radio track section's commander had an excited tinge. "Sir, Doppler calculations show that the source of those signals is slowing down somewhere to our right. It's acting like a spaceship, sir, that's coming to a halt." The admiral locked eyes with Rogers for a second, then shrugged. "Slow the ship, and circle right. Radio track, can you keep me posted on the object's position?" "No can do, sir. Doppler effect can't be used on a slow moving source. It's still off to our right, but that's the best I can say." "Sir," another voice chimed in, "this is fire control. We've got our directional antennas on the thing. It's either directly right or directly left of the ship, matching speed with us exactly." "_Either_ to our right or left?" "That's the best we can do, sir, without radar help." "Admiral, sir," the lieutenant who had first reported the signal came running back. "Judging from the frequency and strength, we think it's probably less than a hundred miles away." "_Less_ than a hundr ..." "Of course, we can't be positive, sir." Heselton whirled back to the intercom. "Radar! That thing is practically on our necks. What the hell's the matter with that equipment...?" The radar commander's voice showed distinct signs of strain. "Can't help it, Admiral. The equipment is working perfectly. We've tried the complete range of frequencies, twenty-five different sets are in operation, we're going blind looking. There is absolutely nothing, nothing at all." For a moment the bridge was silent, except for the clacking-grunting from the overhead speaker which, if anything, sounded louder than before. "It's tv, sir!" The radio lieutenant came running in again. "We've unscrambled the image. Here!" The communications screen on Heselton's desk glowed for a moment, then flashed into life. * * * * * The figure was clearly alien, though startlingly humanoid--at least from the waist up, which was all that showed in the screen. A large mouth and slightly bulging eyes gave it a somewhat jovial, frog-like demeanor. Seated at a desk similar to Heselton's, wearing a gaudy uniform profusely strewn with a variety of insignia, it was obviously Heselton's counterpart, the commander of an alien vessel.