"Kingston undoubtedly intends to transfer bits of the earth-fire from Two to One and thus destroy both of them. That was a test. They brought it, noted its performance on Three and then carefully shipped the thing back again." Virginia snorted angrily. "I'd like to ship the entire Alamogordo Fire to Earth Three and let Kingston and Maddox roast!" Bronson nodded. "But the thing that strikes me the hardest is that only for that very instant of blast was there the chance for time-fission. Then all three worlds have the same phenomena and the same effects. One might think that Three would remain a place where no fission-explosion could take place while on Two all atomic releases of power start the endless fission in the earth." "But does that help us any?" "I don't know yet. But you'll help--now?" "That I will--and willingly." "Then tell me," said Bronson amusedly, "just what was I about to do?" "You were about to touch a high-energy electrode that remains hot for hours after the gear is turned off. One of the energizing circuits. It charges itself with space-resonant energy that does not leak off--sort of like a high-capacity condenser of excellent power factor. You can charge it to lethal dose and it may remain so for hours unless it is discharged." "Why don't they discharge these, then?" "It takes too long for them to load when they fire 'em up," explained Virginia. "Usually they remain at high charge between 'off' periods." Ed Bronson looked into the amplifier with a wry glance. "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing," he grunted. He squinted at the electrode, lifted an eyebrow and smiled cynically, "Y' know, there ought to be some easy way of telling when a thing is dangerous. "Once upon a time that which was dangerous came clearly labeled, like fire, or sabretooth tigers. Later they had to pass laws to get folks to put gasoline in red-coated cans. Nowadays practically anything you open up is dangerous and unless you know what you're doing--" Virginia smiled. She knew that he was just talking, rambling as he scanned the circuit, wondering what to do next. Then she touched his arm gently. "Look, Ed," she said. "Let me take this job over. I know my way around these things, even though they are of Earth Three instead of mine. You've got other things to do, doubtless?" Bronson looked at Virginia quizzically. "Trust me?" she asked. He smiled. "I think so," he said. "You can," she said. Bronson's smile faded. "Look, kiddo," he said, "there's one thing about being just a little bit selfish that most of the books never get around to mentioning. I'd prefer to have someone working beside me who is a bit selfish and inclined to think of himself first. "The guy who has--in capitals--a Mission In Life is all too inclined to toss common sense into the ashcan so that his flanged-up ideals are realized. At least you can predict the future course of any character who is logical enough to think of himself.