Conversion Tables

This is not a fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. This is an entry in Bob’s Stardust R Us first anniversary story contest. This story has nothing to do with my Whateley serial, period. No, really, I mean it -- cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die.

Posting to Stardust defeated me, so Bob Arnold will post it for me. This a brief teaser.

* * * *

I keyed in the commands, the antenna moved, and I adjusted the receiver. I couldn’t get a lock as something was interfering. There was a strong signal near the satellite and on a close frequency as well. I assumed the antenna was misaligned and went to manually adjust it. I had the displays turned so I could see them out in the yard and the speakers on as aids to aiming the antenna. There was just the one power switch, but I was only receiving. The transmitter was on standby so I was safe, right?

I grabbed the attached metal control box and flipped the selector to fine adjust. I absentmindedly walked in front of the antenna array, thinking nothing of it. I twitched the control. There was a sudden spike in the signal; the *signal lock* and *transmitter online* lamps lit. I felt a violent shock and remember nothing after that… I must have blacked out.

Well, duh, Brainiac. Do *you* have to prove you’re an airhead? …. Sorry, I’ll shut up.~~

I apologize; my inner monolog is more like a group discussion some days.

* * * *

I woke to an EMT kneeling next to me — or so I assumed. I lay half numb and disoriented. My vision was blurry, but could just make out a 30’ish man in a uniform looking in my eyes as he shined a penlight in mine.

“Miss, Miss Tyler, can you hear me? I need to cut off some of your clothes to examine you. My partner is a woman, if you would feel more comfortable.”