Craven growled angrily. "What happens if your damn rumors can't ruin Manning? What if I can't find anything?" "In that case," said Chambers, "there are other ways." "Other ways?" Chambers suddenly smiled at them. "I have a notion to call Stutsman back to Earth." Craven drummed his fingers idly on the arm of his chair. "Yes, I guess you do have other ways," he said. * * * * * Greg's hand snapped the switch and the screen suddenly was blank as the televisor set returned instantly to the laboratory. "That explains a lot of things," he said. "Among them what has happened to my stocks." Russ sat in his chair, numbed. "That little weak-kneed, ratting traitor, Wilson. He'd sell his mother for a new ten-dollar bill." "We know," said Greg, "and Chambers doesn't know we know. We'll follow every move he makes. We'll know every one of his plans." Pacing up and down the room, he was already planning their campaign. "There are still a few things to do," he added. "A few possibilities we may have overlooked." "But will we have time?" asked Russ. "I think so. Chambers is going to go slow. The gamble is too big to risk any slip. He doesn't want to get in bad with the law. There won't be any strong-arm stuff ... not until he recalls Stutsman from Callisto." He paused in mid-stride, stood planted solidly on the floor. "When Stutsman gets into the game," he said, "all hell will break loose." He took a deep breath. "But we'll be ready for it then!" _CHAPTER SIX_ "If we can get television reception with this apparatus of ours," asked Greg, "what is to prevent us from televising? Why can't we send as well as receive?" Russ drew doodles on a calculation sheet. "We could. Just something else to work out. You must remember we're working in a four-dimensional medium. That would complicate matters a little. Not like working in three dimensions alone. It would ..." He stopped. The pencil fell from his finger and he swung around slowly to face Manning. "What's the matter now?" asked Greg. "Look," said Russ excitedly. "We're working in four dimensions. And if we televised through four dimensions, what would we get?" Greg wrinkled his brow. Suddenly his face relaxed. "You don't mean we can televise in _three_ dimensions, do you?" "That's what it should work out to," declared Russ. He swung back to the table again, picked up his pencil and jotted down equations. He looked up from the sheet. "Three-dimensional television!" he almost whispered. "Something new again," commented Greg. "I'll say it's new!" Russ reached out and jerked a calculator toward him. Rapidly he set up the equations, pressed the tabulator lever. The machine gurgled and chuckled, clicked out the result. Bending over to read it, Russ sucked in his breath. "It's working out right," he said. "That'll mean new equipment, lots of it," Greg pointed out. "Wilson's gone, damn him. Who's going to help us?"