Super Trick or Treat System

Salute and give orders quickly. Thoughtfully, I entered the navigation room through the narrow, nationally lit passage, and soon joined me.

Briefly, I repeated the section chief’s talk, and we all bent over the charts and job reports.

"Yeah!" When he determined the position in his mind, he fell into thought for a while. "It's just a marginal thing. Sir, almost anything can happen. It's on the old route in Belgrade, isn't it?"

"Yes. But, as you know, some smaller equipment is still using it, [405] slower boats have stopped many stops. Or until the recent order. Any guesses about what we will find?"

"No, sir, except for the obvious one."

"Meteorite?"

Corey nodded.

He said seriously: "From time to time there will be a group of bad guys." I know a catastrophic experience he was thinking about... and dozens of narrow escapes. "That might be an explanation."

"Yes. But these ships are old and slow. They may be easier to turn and dodge than speed ships. At full airspeed, we are almost helpless; we can neither stop nor change course in time to avoid an emergency."

"Well, sir," Corey shrugged, "our job is to find the facts. I am very casual to tell these people that we will be ready in an hour and a half. If we want, shall we resign immediately?"

"As long as everything is checked, I will leave it to you to give the necessary orders. I know I can rely on you without wasting time."

"Yes, sir." Corey said with a smile like a schoolboy. "We will not waste time."

In the shadow of less than two hours after we arrived at the base, we rose rapidly at maximum atmospheric velocity, and then sailed to a small travel area in the universe, where two ships quickly met, fate.

"Sir, I want to know if you can go to the navigation room at once?" It was Kincaid's voice, a musical instrument from my special cabin.

"Immediately, Mr. Kincaid." I didn't ask any questions, because I knew my adjutant was calm. He believes that if I need to get my attention in the navigation room, it is very important. I hurriedly put on my uniform and hurriedly walked to Kinkade’s side, wondering whether our inaction days would eventually bear fruit.

Kinkade apologized and said to me: "Sir, maybe I don't need to call you, but considering the nature of our mission, I think it's best to ask for your opinion." He moved towards two huge navigation charts, these charts. Operated by super radio reflections on the surface of the table in front of him.

The center of each has a familiar red spark that represents itself, and there are green luminous points around it. In terms of terrain, this gives us the position of each object on the left and right, up and down, and up and down.

"Sir, here, are you here?" Kincaid's frank, capable index finger marked spots on each chart. "Have you seen anything similar before?"

I shook my head slowly. I immediately saw the phenomenon he pointed out. Again, we use the most understandable term on our chart, which is to our right and slightly above our position, closer to us than any charting entity. This is what is recorded on our chart, it is A faint, invisible pink haze.

"It's TV now, sir." Kincaid said seriously.

I bent down and leaned toward the huge hooded disk. Unlike today's bright lighting equipment, I studied the reflections there.

Concentrated in the wild are thousands of weird things that move quickly toward the ship. Their shape is different from the crescent shape, the corners become obtuse and push inward toward each corner [406] others. They emit a faint red light, seeming to be centered on the thickest part of the crescent. Although they appeared, they still gave me a strange impression of being alive in a strange way! When they are more or less compact, their relative positions will change from time to time, instead of drifting in the black space like an aimless body, but with a wise direction.

"What do you think of them, sir?" Kincaid asked, his eyes on my face. "Can you let them go?"

"No," I admitted, still staring at the strange scene on the TV disc. "Maybe this is what we have been looking for. Please call Mr. and Mr. and ask them to report here immediately."

Kincaid hurriedly obeyed orders, while I was watching strange things in the field of TV discs, trying to determine their nature. They are not entities, because as far as I see them, they are superimposed. Through the essence of the first, I can clearly see the second. They are also not stiff, because a crescent-shaped arm searches time and time again, almost like a clumsy tentacle. There are some restless, hungry, sharp weapon movements in things, sending chills dripping down my spine.

Arrive with; their curiosity is obvious.

I said, "Gentlemen, I believe that we will find out why the two nearby ships have disappeared. First look at the chart and then here."

They bend on the chart, then stared at the TV disc. Is the first to speak.

"What are these?" He gasped. "Are they... still alive?"

"That's what we don't know. I believe they are fashion chasers. And, if you observe, they will move directly towards us at least as fast as we are. Is this correct?, Mr. Kincaid? "

Kinkade nodded and started to calculate hastily, taking readings from thin lines, which divided the chart into measurable squares, and used a timer installed on the wall of the room to check the speed.

Hendrix said slowly: "But, I don't understand the way they register on our navigation map." My young third-class army Hendrix has a curious, almost scientific mind. I have often said that he is my favorite method for a man who likes to move and is the closest to a scientist. "They are obscure on the chart and not proportional to the actual size. They must be larger or smaller than the entity."

"They are coming towards us," commented harshly, still bending and winding, "as if they know what they are doing, it means business."

"Yes." Kincaid nodded and picked up the piece of paper he had been thinking about. "This is just a rule of thumb, but if they continue their current course at the current speed, and we do, they will attack us in about an hour and a quarter of the time, or even less."

"But I don't understand their appearance in the graph," Hendrix murmured tenaciously, still keeping the matter in his mind. "Unless...unless...ah! I dare to take a risk, sir! Charts are operated by superradio reflections; in other words, electronic [407] Kelly. They are naturally extremely sensitive to electrical interference. These things are essentially It's all electronic. It's so high. That's why the light spots appear on the chart."

"Sounds logical," Corey said immediately. "As far as I know, the point is not what they are, but how we treat them. Sir, do you believe they are dangerous?"

I suggest: "Let me ask you some questions to answer that question." "According to reports, two ships were missing in the nearby open space. We came here to determine the cause of these losses. We found that we were clearly the target of groups , We cannot be sure; this seems to be what Mr. Hendricks saw here. There are good reasons to believe that it is some kind of electronic in nature. Putting all these facts together, what is the most reasonable conclusion?"

"These things led to two missing spacecraft reportedly missing in space!" Hendricks said.

I glanced at Kinkade, and he nodded solemnly.

"And you, Mr. Corey?" I asked.

Shrugged.

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