rim — that band around the edge which is in radio shadow from us and from
the Newton. If we hear — ”
“Yes, yes! How about radar search?”
“Sir, a rocket on the surface looks to radar like a million other features
the same size. Our one chance is to get them to answer . . . if they can.
Ultrahigh-resolution radar might spot them in months — but suits worn in
those little rockets carry only six hours air. We are praying they will
hear and answer.”
“When they answer, you’ll slap a radio direction finder on them. Eh?”
“No, sir.”
“In God’s name, why not?”
“Sir, a direction finder is useless for this job. It would tell us only
that the signal came from the Moon — which doesn’t help.”
“Doctor, you’re saying that you might hear Betsy — and not know where she
is?”
“We’re as blind as she is. We hope that she will be able to lead us to her
. . . if she hears us.”
“How?”
“With a Laser. An intense, very tight beam of light. She’ll hear it — ”
“Hear a beam of light?”
“Yes, sir. We are jury-rigging to scan like radar — that won’t show
anything. But we are modulating it to give a carrier wave in radio
frequency, then modulating that into audio frequency — and controlling that
by a piano. If she hears us, we’ll tell her to listen while we scan the
Moon and run the scale on the piano — ”
“All this while a little girl is dying?”
“Mister President — shut up!”
“Who was THAT?”
“I’m Betsy’s father. They’ve patched me from Omaha. Please, Mr. President,
keep quiet and let them work. I want my daughter back.”
The President answered tightly, “Yes, Mr. Barnes. Go ahead, Director. Order
anything you need.”
In Station Meridian the director wiped his face. “Getting anything?”
“No. Boss, can’t something be done about that Rio station? It’s sitting
right on the frequency!”
“We’ll drop a brick on them. Or a bomb. Joe, tell the President.”
“I heard, Director. They’ll be silenced!”
“Sh! Quiet! Betsy — do you hear me?” The operator looked intent, made an
adjustment.
From a speaker came a girl’s light, sweet voice: ” — to hear somebody! Gee,
I’m glad! Better come quick — the Major is hurt.”
The Director jumped to the microphone. “Yes, Betsy, we’ll hurry. You’ve got
to help us. Do you know where you are?”
“Somewhere on the Moon, I guess. We bumped hard and I was going to kid him
about it when the ship fell over. I got unstrapped and found Major Peters
and he isn’t moving. Not dead — I don’t think so; his suit puffs out like
mine and I hear something when I push my helmet against him. I just now
managed to get the door open.” She added, “This can’t be Farside; it’s
supposed to be night there. I’m in sunshine, I’m sure. This suit is pretty
hot.”
“Betsy, you must stay outside. You’ve got to be where you can see us.”
She chuckled. “That’s a good one. I see with my ears.”
“Yes. You’ll see us, with your ears. Listen, Betsy. We’re going to scan the
Moon with a beam of light. You’ll hear it as a piano note. We’ve got the
Moon split into the eighty-eight piano notes. When you hear one, yell,
‘Now!’ Then tell us what note you heard. Can you do that?”
“Of course,” she said confidently, “if the piano is in tune.”
“It is. All right, we re starting — ”
“What note, Betsy?”
“Now!”
“E flat the first octave above middle C.”
“This note, Betsy?”
“That’s what I said.”
The Director called out, “Where’s that on the grid? In Mare Nubium? Tell
the General!” He said to the microphone, “We’re finding you, Betsy honey!
Now we scan just that part you’re on. We change setup. Want to talk to your
Daddy meanwhile?”
“Gosh! Could I?”
“Yes indeed!”
Twenty minutes later he cut in and heard: ” — of course not, Daddy. Oh, a
teensy bit scared when the ship fell. But people take care of me, always
have.”