thing else," Ken said tiredly. "That wastes too
much heat. What's Mom cooking on?"

"Mayor Hilliard found a little wood burner and gave it to me. I haven't
had time to try converting our oil furnace."

Ken felt unable to stay awake longer. He went upstairs to bed for a few
hours. Later, his mother brought a dinner tray. "Do you want it here, or
would you rather come down where it's warm?" she asked.

"I'll come down. I want to get up for a while."

"Maria is out in the shack. She has a scheduled contact with Berkeley,
but she says the transmitter won't function. It looks like a burned-out
tube to her. She wanted to call Joe."

Ken scrambled out of bed and grabbed for his clothes. "I'll take care of
it. Save dinner for me. We've got to keep the station on the air, no
matter what happens!"

He found Maria seated by the desk, listening to the Berkeley operator's
repeated call, to which she could not reply. The girl wore a heavy
cardigan sweater, which was scarcely sufficient for the cold in the
room. The small, tin-can heater was hardly noticeable.

Maria looked up as Ken burst through the doorway. "I didn't want you to
come," she said. "They could have called Joe."

"We can't risk disturbing our schedule. They might think we've gone
under and we'd lose our contact completely."

Hastily he examined the tube layout and breathed a sigh of relief when
he saw it was merely one of the 801's that had burned a filament. They
had a good stock of spares. He replaced the tube and closed the
transmitter cage. After the tubes had warmed up, and the Berkeley
operator paused to listen for their call, Ken picked up the microphone
and threw in the antenna switch.

"Mayfield calling Berkeley." He repeated this several times. "Our
transmitter's been out with a bum bottle. Let us know if you read us
now." He repeated again and switched back to the receiver.

The Berkeley operator's voice indicated his relief. "I read you,
Mayfield. I hoped you hadn't gone out of commission. The eggheads here
seem to think your Maddox-Larsen combination is coming up with more dope
on comet dust than anybody else in the country."

Ken grinned and patted himself and Maria on the back. "That's us," he
said. She grimaced at him.

"Hush!" she said.

"I've got a big report here from Dr. French. Confirm if you're ready to
tape it, and I'll let it roll."

Maria cut in to confirm that they were receiving and ready to record.
The Berkeley operator ch