Originally published in the March 1990 issue of the Collector and Emitter.
As everyone knows, the QRM was terrific on all bands, all modes, for most of the past month.
Everyone was wondering aloud whether the greatest of them all, our own beloved Q. R. Zedd, A5A, will solve the mystery of the planet Neptune’s strange magnetic field. And the speculation was not just idle chitchat, for Zedd shocked the world last month when he announced that he would solve the mystery here on earth, or fly off to Neptune personally to get things straightened out,
Unbeknownst to any of us, it all began several months ago when the Voyager spacecraft flew by Neptune and recorded signals indicating a multi-pole magnetic field, something that knocked most theory about the origination of planetary fields into the proverbial cocked hat, The boys at NASA and the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in California tried to solve the problem themselves, but after they burned out two Cray supercomputers on the project they knew they had no recourse but to call on Q. R. Zedd.
The holder of our only 1×1 callsign left Honor Roll Ranch, just a hoot and a holler south of town, right after the president called him and begged for help. Zedd went to Houston and conferred with the boys, where he made his momentous announcement about going out there himself if all else failed, Then he jetted off to JPL.
It has been almost a month now, and the world is still in the dark. As is so often the case, however, readers of Collector & Emitter have an inside track on the latest poop. At considerable expense, we have secured brief interviews not only with Zedd but with members of his family and entourage who are most concerned about his future plans.
“It is a hard problem,” the great man himself told us during a break out at JPL. Hiking his yellow corduroy cowboy boots up on the keyboard of his supercomputer, he explained.
“If Neptune has multiple magnetic poles,” he told us, a frown creasing his handsome forehead, “then the old ideas about fields being generated by planetary rotation around the core ain’t no longer valid. And that means a planet don’t act like a dipole. Which means if a planet don’t, necessarily, then neither does a radio dipole, necessarily. Which means if I can get this worked out, I can design me a dipole that has a gain of about 66 db in a directional pattern, only the direction goes every direction.
“Our government and the scientists of the world naturally have other reasons for wanting this mystery solved. So I would want to help even if it didn’t mean maybe getting to design the greatest aerial since W5OU last strung wire. Unfortunately, so far all we’ve done is burn up a couple more computers and figure out that the New York Mets are going to have the strongest bullpen in baseball next season.”
We asked Zedd if he was still contemplating a personal trip to Neptune if all else fails.
“If necessary,” he said solemnly, “I will go out there.”
We pointed out that the round trip would take something like twenty-two years, minimum.
“Well,” he told us, “that ought to be about right. It would get me back for the start-up of a solar cycle. Of course I would miss the best of this one and all of the next one, but I could make up for lost time when I returned. Of course my bride Tondelayo will be pretty old then, over 40. I will have to make sure she lays in a lot of Momma’s Lard to put on her face to keep the wrinkles down if I decide to go.
Someone pointed out that Zedd would be into his sixties by the time he got back.
“No prob,” he smiled. “Time is of little consequence for us immortals.”
When would Zedd know if he has to make the interplanetary trip?
“In a matter of days, now,” he confided.
Back at Honor Roll Ranch, we sought out Tondelayo, Zedd’s blond, nubile bride. She was crying pretty hard all the time we tried to have an interview, but we got some of it.
“I don’t know how I can live without my sugar bear!” she wailed. “Doncha know he is the finest, grandest, most wonderful man that ever lived in the whole wide world? Oh woe is me! Oh woe is everybody! How can all of us live for more than twenty-two years without basking in the radiance of Q.’s wonderfulness!”
We established contact with Zedd’s momma, Momma Zedd, on CW, her preferred mode of contact except when she is out for a night on the town at one of the classier places like Red’s in Norman. We couldn’t copy her, of course, but the computer got some of it, and that went like this:
“OK OM UR 599 599 MENA ARK ES NAME HR MOMMA BT MOMMA ES ON SONNY GO NEPTUNE CAN ONLY SAY WILL MISS IF GOES BT STAY OR GO HE IS GREATEST BT SRI MUST QRT BT HEAR MANY CHINA STAS CALLING 73 88 SK.”
Homer Klott, Zedd’s protege, issued a written statement about the situation. Unfortunately, his crayon broke before he had many letters written down and no one could figure out what he was trying to say.
As presstime neared, all of us prayed that we could get definitive word on Zedd’s plans. For this is serious: if the great one flies off into outer space, it will not only put him in grave personal danger and plunge the ham world into mourning; it could also mean that Tondelayo would never stop crying, Homer would never get his ham ticket, and KU5B would not have any more columns.
For all these reasons (pro or con) we can only pray. For alas, the mighty Goss presses have begun to roar, ready to pump out another issue of C&E for Gotham City, and we cannot hold this page back any longer for late-breaking bulletins. The faithful will just have to wait until next month to learn how this cliffhanger turns out.