definite commercial possibilities in ultra-long-range transmitters, and I want to be in on the ground floor.”
Dave nodded moodily, but said no more. Bruce looked vaguely surprised as he perched on the nearby stool. He was a tall, ascetic man, several years older than the other two, with thin features and a perpetual eye to the main chance.
“At the moment,” Dave said, waddling across with three cups of coffee on a tray, “our television genius is absorbed in a mystery. And I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s the biggest puzzle I’ve struck for some time.”
“Oh?” Bruce took one of the coffee cups. “Am I supposed to know anything about it?”
“You soon can do,” Dave said, and gave the details whilst Chris contented himself with sombre, confirmatory nods. Bruce listened with the cold detachment of a professional physicist, looking as though he were waiting for something concrete on which to pass judgment.
“Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” Chris asked ruefully when the story had been told.
“If anybody else but you had been involved, Chris, I’d say just that. But you’re not that kind of a chap. I’m prepared to believe that it happened all right.”
“Many thanks,” Chris murmured dryly, sipping his coffee.
“How far,” Bruce asked, “does this present apparatus of yours reach?”
“About a hundred miles. That means France mainly to the south, and up to maybe Manchester or Leeds in the north. East and west we have the ocean, so that’s out. This girl must have been within that radius somewhere.”
“Not necessarily,” Bruce said, surprisingly, and Chris and Dave looked at him sharply.
“I mean,” he explained, putting his coffee cup on the bench, “that there are such things as freak receptions, both in television and radio. Sometimes during intense solar activity a television transmission from thousands of miles away is picked up—and radio transmission too. Last night there was not so much solar activity as electrical disturbance caused by the storm. It possibly helped you to accidentally pick something up, and since it was far away it was not in any known place on your receiver dial.”
“Then it would be a ‘ham’. As Dave has pointed out, all the professional television announcers know English as well as other languages.”
“All right, then, a ‘ham’,” Bruce conceded. “Any station, even a very weak one, can sometimes get an electrical boost which carries the signal thousands of miles instead of hundreds. Certainly I see no reason to make such a profound mystery out of the thing.”
“The mystery is that a ‘ham’ should have palatial surroundings,” Chris mused. “Gets me, does that. Anyhow, there’s one way to check up. I can always get the Amateur Receivers’ Association to find out which station it was sending that transmission at that time. Frankly, boys,” Chris added with an uncomfortable smile, “I’d like to know more about that girl.”
“Shame on you as a research scientist!” Dave said sternly. “How is long-range television to prosper if you go cuckoo over a girl and forget your investigations?”
“No girl’s worth it,” Bruce said flatly. “Concentrate on the commercial side: that’s what matters.”
Chris did not answer for a moment. Another side of the matter seemed to have occurred to him, and presently he put it into words.
“If it came from thousands of miles away the storm would not have any effect on it—only on my receiver. And it isn’t the receiver that gets the boost; it’s the transmitter. Solar activity could do it, yes, because that involves the whole world—but an electrical storm is only a local affair…. I’m none too satisfied with your theory, Bruce.”
He shrugged. “That’s too bad. It’s the only one I’ve got—and I still maintain that a mystery girl who can’t read English is no excuse for holding up our experiments. Get on with your modifications, man, and forget her!”
Chris shook his head. “It’s not as simple as that. What I will do, though, is contact the Association right away.”
Quickly he tuned in the wavelength required, and the genial face of the Amateur Receivers’ Association announcer presently appeared on the screen. This organisation existed solely for the use of television ‘hams’, operating a twenty-four hour service and manned by professional statisticians who were also television maniacs. Their self-inflicted, non-profit making objective was solely to log all known amateur transmissions and make linkups where necessary.
“Hello there,” Chris acknowledged with a friendly salute. “Information required, if you please. Station MBK, London Environ, speaking.”
“Glad to help,” the announcer responded. “What’s the trouble?”
“An unexpected reception at the height of last night’s storm. Can you trace for me where the following transmission came from? A girl with copper-coloured hair and unusually good looks came on my screen without sound at approximately ten o’clock last night when the storm was at its zenith. She did not understand a card written in English which I held up for her to read.”
A puzzled look came over the Amateur Announcer’s face.
“And what was she dressed in? Any idea?”
“A shell pink dress with elbow-length sleeves. It wasn’t evening dress, come to think of it. No jewellery that I noticed. Her background was of a sort of neutral watermark pattern, and there were ribbed pillars. It almost looked like some kind of palace. That’s all I can tell you. My aerial was destroyed temporarily by lightning and I lost contact.... Think you can do anything for me?”
“I’ll try. We have all the details of last night’s transmissions by the ‘hams’ in all parts of the world, and the pros too, come to that. I’ll signal you back in about twenty minutes.”
With that, Chris switched off and relaxed.
“Doesn’t sound too hopeful, does he?” Dave asked at last, to which Chris was forced to give a grudging assent.
“He’ll find something,” Bruce decided. “If any amateur or professional station sent out that transmission, the Association will know all about it. And come to think of it, it may have been a film which was transmitted, hence the ornate background.”
“Then why did the girl study my note and then start to write one for herself?” Chris asked pointedly. “She wouldn’t do that in a film. And another thing—assuming the storm caused me to receive that image over thousands of miles, what kind of electric jiggery pokery was it that caused my image to show up on her televisor? It was a both-way performance, remember.”
Silence, with suggestions and ideas at absolute zero. Not even the inventive Bruce with his analytical mind seemed capable of thinking any further. So for the moment there was nothing to do but keep an eye on the clock and hope the Association might have something to offer.
It was thirty minutes later before the Association came through again, and it was almost immediately obvious from the expression on the announcer’s face that he had nothing of importance to relate.
“Sorry, MBK,” he said, shaking his head. “We’ve no trace of any such transmission from anywhere in the
