It caromed from this bulkhead against the next, hitting it in a quartering slice. From side to side the ship bounced, crushing the bulkheads and tearing great slices from the flanks of the ship. It slowed, and came to rest against a large room full of packing cases, and was immediately swarmed over by the men from the Relay Station. They found Channing partly conscious. His nose was bleeding, but otherwise he seemed all right. Arden was completely out, though a quick check by the Station's medical staff assured Don that she would be all right as soon as they gave her a work-out. He was leaving the center of the Station when Franks came puffing up the stairway from the next lowest level. "Gosh," he said. "It's a real job trying to guess where you stopped. I've been hitting every hundred feet and asking. Well, that was one for the book." "Yeah," groaned Don. "Come along, Walt. I want a shower. You can give the résumé of the activities whilst I'm showering and trying to soak this adhesive off. Arden, lucky girl, will be unconscious when the doc rips it off, but I never liked the way they remove tape." "There isn't much to tell," said Franks. "But what there is, I'll tell you." Channing was finishing the shower when Walt mentioned that it was too bad that they hadn't started his electron gun a few weeks sooner. Don shut off the water, fumbled for a towel, and said: "What?" Franks repeated. Again Channing said: "What? Are you nuts?" "No. I've been tinkering with an idea of mine. If we had another month to work on it, I think we might be able to clip Murdoch's ears." "Just what are you using in this super weapon, chum?" Franks explained. "Mind if I put in an oar?" asked Channing. "Not at all. So far we might be able to fry a smelt at twenty feet, or we could cook us a steak. But I haven't been able to do a thing yet. We had it working once, and I think we heated a meteor somewhat, but the whole thing went blooey before we finished the test. I've spent the last week and a half fixing the thing up again, and would have tried it out on the next meteor, but your message brought a halt to everything but cleaning up the mess and making ready just in case we might think of something practical." "I'll put in my first oar by seeing the gadget. Wait 'til I find my pants, and I'll go right along." * * * * * Don inspected the installation and whistled. "Not half bad, sonny. Not half bad." "Except that we haven't been able to make it work." "Well, for one thing, you've been running on the wrong track. You need more power." "Sure," grinned Walt. "More power, he says. I don't see how we can cram any more soup into this can. She'll melt." "Walt, what happens in a big gun?" "Powder burns; expanding products of combustion push--" "Functionally, what are you trying to accomplish? Take it on the basis of a solid shot, like they used to use back in the sailing ship days."