Then he would build a set of sharply-tuned filters that would cut 'holes' in the remaining spectrum where the tonal interferences came. It would make her speech less natural but far more intelligible. Bronson needed more evidence before he did anything serious about it. It was nearing five o'clock in the morning before he finished his job, and started to listen once more. CHAPTER II _The Red Sky_ The girl turned from the window, where the bright sky silhouetted her slender figure. "How do I know where he is?" she snapped. "Now look, Virginia," objected one of the men in the room, "there's no point in getting angry. We must know." "I know you must, Peter," she returned. "I agree. But I don't know. Do you understand that? I don't know!" Peter Moray shrugged. "Anybody capable of building a space resonator must have enough training to have known about it in the first place." John Cauldron spoke sharply, "You went out to the corner as suggested?" "I did. He did not appear. After I returned I watched at regular intervals. No one came. Also I listened carefully as you suggested. He hasn't been calling--hasn't called since about eleven o'clock this morning." Peter Moray smiled. "Yesterday morning," he corrected. "Don't be funny. You're the ones that have kept me up all night asking fool questions over and over." "They're not fool questions, Virginia." "Any question repeated too often becomes a fool question," she replied. Cauldron spoke heavily. "We're not cross-examining you, Virginia. Please believe that. We ask and ask and ask because it may be that something might have been said that sounds trivial, but may make large sense." The girl shrugged. "You're entitled to try," she said. She passed a hand across her face wearily. "You've heard and reheard our conversation as verbatim as I recall it. And it was an experience I will not forget easily." "Agreed," said Moray, walking to the west window and looking out. "I guess we're all overkeyed." Cauldron grumbled a bit. "There have been a lot of strange things happening," he said. "This isn't the first." Virginia smiled wanly but it was Cauldron who spoke next after a short pause. "And at five-thirty in the morning, everything begins to get somewhat distorted from a mental standpoint." Moray turned from the brightness of the sky and mumbled something about life's lowest ebb occurring just before dawn. Then he added, "Why did this mess have to happen? Blast it, everybody that knew swore up and down that the possibility was nil." "Not nil enough," said Cauldron. "No," agreed Virginia. "But that's life." Moray slammed his fist down on the window-sill and swore. "That's life," he echoed in a mocking tone. "Well, I don't like it!" "Who does?" demanded Cauldron quietly.