And it was slow work handling it. His voice took six seconds to pass
through something over two hundred light-years of space in the Dabney
field, and then two seconds in normal space from the relay in Lunar
City. It was twelve seconds between the time he finished saying
something before the first word of the reply reached him. It was very
slow communication. He reflected annoyedly that he'd have to ask Jones
to make a special Dabney field communication field as strong as was
necessary to take care of the situation.
The rockets growled and roared outside. The ship lifted. Johnny Simms
came storming up from below.
"My trophy!" he cried indignantly. "I want my trophy!"
Cochrane looked up impatiently from the screen.
"What trophy?"
"The thing I shot!" cried Johnny Simms fiercely. "I want to have it
mounted! Nobody else ever killed anything like that! I want it!"
The ship surged upward more strongly. Cochrane said coldly:
"It's too late now. Get out. I'm busy."
He returned his eyes to the screen. Johnny Simms raced for the stairs. A
little later Cochrane heard shoutings in the control-room. But he was
too busy to inquire.
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