"Bill, I've got something on radar," Chevy said.
"Say again," Lathrop called absently from the front galley, where he was peering at the bottom of the upended coffee brewer, trying to figure out why it was leaking.
Chevy frowned as he manipulated the controls. Nothing but blue-green haze, as ever, on the visible-light display, but the pitching radar indicated a mass about 20 miles away. Metallic, stationary--and big. Chevy heard footsteps behind in, then Lathrop's voice over his shoulder: "Something on radar, you say?"
"Yeah."
"Like what something?"
"Something big," Chevy said. He sat back in the comfortable station chair, rotating it around to face the captain. "Nothing on the visual, but you can't see anything through this haze anyway. Computer says it's a metallic mass, at our two-o'clock, range twenty-two miles. It's stationary at Level 340. We'll go past it--" he turned back to the panel and glanced at one of the instuments. "--in four minutes, closest approach twelve miles." He turned back around.
"Metallic?"
"Yeah."
"Must be some mistake," Lathrop said. He had turned away and was now stepping back towards the galley. "Coffee pot's leaking, I can't figure out why."
"There's no mistake, Captain," Chevy said.
"Okay, No mistake." He stopped and turned. "I tell you what, you say the mass is at 340? Let's descend and maintain 340, and slow down a little. When we get alongside it, let's stop and take a look."
"Okay," Chevy responded.
"Say again," Lathrop called absently from the front galley, where he was peering at the bottom of the upended coffee brewer, trying to figure out why it was leaking.
Chevy frowned as he manipulated the controls. Nothing but blue-green haze, as ever, on the visible-light display, but the pitching radar indicated a mass about 20 miles away. Metallic, stationary--and big. Chevy heard footsteps behind in, then Lathrop's voice over his shoulder: "Something on radar, you say?"
"Yeah."
"Like what something?"
"Something big," Chevy said. He sat back in the comfortable station chair, rotating it around to face the captain. "Nothing on the visual, but you can't see anything through this haze anyway. Computer says it's a metallic mass, at our two-o'clock, range twenty-two miles. It's stationary at Level 340. We'll go past it--" he turned back to the panel and glanced at one of the instuments. "--in four minutes, closest approach twelve miles." He turned back around.
"Metallic?"
"Yeah."
"Must be some mistake," Lathrop said. He had turned away and was now stepping back towards the galley. "Coffee pot's leaking, I can't figure out why."
"There's no mistake, Captain," Chevy said.
"Okay, No mistake." He stopped and turned. "I tell you what, you say the mass is at 340? Let's descend and maintain 340, and slow down a little. When we get alongside it, let's stop and take a look."
"Okay," Chevy responded.
