"And Hawaii. Where? This is why you had us come to Maui?" Jed queried, while studying the map.

"Right. Watch. The line dissects Kealaikahiki Point on the island of Kahoolawe."

"Where is that?" asked Jenny.

"There," he pointed outside across the open air dining room, "just across Auau Channel. See that bump highlighted by the moon, just on the horizon. It's the smallest of the eight main islands. It's completely barren, windswept, uninhabitable. No fresh water; a deserted desert isle. The Army, Navy, and Air Force have used it for years as a target."

"Do you think we stand a chance of finding another encoder?"

"No. I've dropped practice bombs on the point, myself, and seen the photo results. I doubt that we would find anything but shattered lava."

"What's the plan, then," Jed sat back down, "without actually having an encoder?"

"Let's pretend we did find one. I'm positive that the electronic surveillance technology employed by the National Security Administration in Maryland would pick up, translate, and pinpoint any Code: Yellow transmission within seconds.

So I have chartered a sailing yacht. The Scotch Mist. The skipper is a friend. A retired Air Force pilot who joined because he lost an older brother at Pearl Harbor. He is a mechanical whiz, too. We have already loaded equipment to set up on Kahoolawe. It's an electric typesetting typewriter, a Justowriter, that operates from a punched paper tape. We have programmed a phoney message in Code: Yellow. This in turn is jury rigged to send short wave Morse dit dahs when a timer switches on a portable, electric start generator...."

"...which will," Jed finished the long sentence, "allow us to catch fish when they rise to the bait."

"You bet. Damn, I like your style, Jed. Why don't you do me a favor and marry my daughter?"

"Plan to."

"Hey, what's going on here? Don't I get a choice. 'What,' and 'Why,' is about all I get to say."

"That's OK, Button. I have asked your father's permission. It was difficult. He resisted. I persisted, and wrung a begrudging approval. Now, consider that I am on bent knee, begging, pleading, for your fair hand in matrimony."