Jake, I think it's the
microscope." Doc managed to push enough junk off one of the seats to
make a cramped bed, and stretched out. "Sure, we figured they sent her
because they want to keep tabs on what I discover. They've finally
gotten scared of the plague, and she's the perfect Judas goat. But they
have to have some way to get in touch with her. I'll bet there's a
tracer in the mike and a switch so she can modulate it or key it to send
out Morse."
"Yeah," Jake nodded. "Well, she does her own dirty work. I might get to
like her if she was on our side. Okay, Doc. If they've put things into
the mike, I've got a boy who'll find and fix it so she won't guess it's
been touched."
Doc relaxed. For the moment, there would be no power in the instrument,
nor any excuse for her to use it. But she must have handled some secret
arrangement during the work periods. She used the mike more than he did.
The switch could be camouflaged easily enough. If anyone detected the
signal, they'd probably only think it was some leak in the electrical
circuit.
Far away, the shuttle rockets had appeared as tiny dots in the sky. They
were standing on their tails a second later, just off the ground,
letting the full force of their blasts bake the area where headquarters
had been.
Jake watched grimly, driving by something close to instinct. Then he
looked back.
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