The Lensman held his breath, but the Medonians and the Tellurian technicians did not turn a hair as they mounted their new stations and tested their apparatus. "Ready." "Ready." "Ready." Station after station reported: then, as Thorndyke threw in the master switch, the primary sphere--invisible now, through distance, to the eye, but plain upon the visiplates--disappeared; a mere morsel to those new, gigantic forces. "Swing into it, boys!" Thorndyke yelled into his transmitter. "We don't have to feed her with a teaspoon any more. Let her have it!" * * * * * And "let her have it" they did. No more cutting up of the larger meteorites; asteroids ten, fifteen, twenty miles in diameter, along with hosts of smaller stuff, were literally hurled through the black screen into the even lusher blackness of that which was inside it, without complaint from the quietly humming motors. "Satisfied, Kim?" Master Technician Thorndyke asked. "Uh-_huh_!" the Lensman assented, vigorously. "Nice! Slick, in fact," he commended. "I'll buzz off now, I guess." "Might as well--everything's on the green. Clear ether, spacehound!" "Same to you, big fella. I'll be seeing you, or sending you a thought. There's Tellus, right over there. Funny, isn't it, doing a flit to a place you can actually see before you start?" The trip to Earth was scarcely a hop, even in a supply-boat. To Prime Base the Gray Lensman went, where he found that his new non-ferrous speedster was done; and during the next few days he tested it out thoroughly. It did not register at all, neither upon the regular, long-range ultra-instruments nor upon the short-range emergency electros. Nor could it be seen in space, even in a telescope at point-blank range. True, it occulted an occasional star; but since even the direct rays of a searchlight failed to reveal its shape to the keenest eye--the Lensman chemists who had worked out that ninety-nine point nine nine percent absolute black coating had done a wonderful job--the chance of discovery through that occurrence was very slight. "QX, Kim?" the Port Admiral asked. He was accompanying the Gray Lensman on a last tour of inspection. "Fine, chief. Couldn't be better--thanks a lot." "Sure you're non-ferrous yourself?" "Absolutely. Not even an iron nail in my shoes." "What is it, then? You look worried. Want something expensive?" "You hit the thumb, admiral, right on the nail. The trouble is not only that it's expensive; I'm afraid that probably we'll never have any use for it." "Better build it, anyway. Then if you want it you'll have it, and if you don't want it we can always use it for something. What is it?" "A nutcracker. There are a lot of cold planets around, aren't there, that aren't good for anything?" "Thousands of them--perhaps millions."