"Frank, I want a gut check on a fax that just came in..."
Harold Smith was listening to the President of the United States with one ear and the TV on his desk with the other.
It was not difficult to do. The TV was just hissing. The President was speaking in brisk sentences.
"The FCC are working hard on this thing, Smith. But they claim I'm asking the impossible. You can't trace a signal that isn't there."
"But it is, Mr. President."
"What is the source of this information?"
Thinking of the nameless repairman, Smith said, "That's classified."
The President cleared his throat unhappily.
Then Harold Smith groaned.
"What is it?" the President demanded.
"BCN is back on."
"But the seven hours aren't yet up."
Smith glanced at his watch. The seven hours were far from up. "Mr. President, check with your FCC commissioner. Find out if they were successful."
"I'll be back with you shortly."
Harold Smith hung up and turned up the TV volume.
The screen was full of snow. The snow had come on after a sonorous voice had intoned eleven simple words:
"We now return control of your television set. Until next time . . . "
Smith roved the channels. They were all full of snow, except the all-cable stations.
"What has caused Captain Audion to cease broadcasting?" he muttered aloud.
The red telephone rang once. Smith caught it.
"I'm sorry, Smith. They were still working on it when the signal stopped."
"They confirmed there was a signal?"
"A powerful one."
"Unfortunate," said Smith.
"There is one thing to report, however," the President added. "One leg of the triangle was plotted."
Smith perked up. "Yes?"
"The signal seemed to be coming out of Canada. Somewhere along North Latitude 62."
Smith pulled up a chart on his terminal.
"The high north," he reported. "Underpopulated terrain, all of it. A lot to search even if the Canadian Federal government were being cooperative."
"I've been ducking calls from the Canadian Prime Minister all day. He thinks this is some U.S. Early Warning Broadcast System test gone haywire."
"The Canadian prime minister is your problem, Mr. President. If the transmitter can be located, my people can destroy it. Until then, we can only await this madman's next move."
"The FCC are on standby."
"You might call the prime minister and give him the facts. It may be that the CRTC picked up something."
"CRTC?"
"The Canadian Radio-Televisions and Telecommunications Commission," Smith explained. "Their FCC."
"Oh. Will do."
Smith hung up. His sharp mind went back to the immediate question. Captain Audion had deliberately ceased broadcasting black. Why?
On his screen, Smith typed out possibilities.
POWER OUTAGE?
Good, he thought. Checking for power outages in Canada might narrow the locus point.
TO CONFUSE ISSUE?
Unlikely. Smith realized. Terrorists do not fold their hands before public deadlines.
FEAR?
Of what? Smith thought. It was too farfetched. Then it struck him.
KNOWLEDGE THAT TRIANGULATION HAD BEGUN?
"Possible," Smith muttered. "Just possible." He had two good leads now. He attacked the first and within twenty minutes had determined there had been no power outages in the vast Canadian landmass.
That left the other theory. Where did it go? A leak in the FCC? Or was Captain Audion himself FCC? Enormous technical knowledge and resources would be required to blanket the U.S. and its neighbors with a masking TV signal.
Or was it possible that the Canadians were indeed responsible for this outrage? Smith mused. It was looking more and more likely.
As Harold Smith mulled these thoughts over in his head, he noticed MBC anchor Tim Macaw on his TV. He turned up the sound.