"So how do we drill?" "Wes, is that non-arcing alloy of yours very conductive?" "Slightly better than aluminum." "Then I've got it! We mount two electrodes of the non-arcing alloy in front. Make 'em heavy and of monstrous current-carrying capacity. Then we connect them to a condenser made of Farrell's super-dooper dielectric." "You bet," said Walt, grinning. "We put a ten microfarad condenser in front, only it'll be one hundred and thirty farads when we soak it in Farrell's super-dielectric. We charge it to ten thousand volts, and let it go." "We've got a few experimental jobs," said Channing. "Those inerts. The drones we were using for experimental purposes. They were radio controlled, and can be easily converted to the aiming-circuits." "Explosives?" "We'll get the chemistry boys to brew a batch." "Hm-m-m. Remind me to quit Saturday," said Walt. "I wonder how a ten farad condenser would drive one of those miniatures." "Pretty well, I should imagine. Why?" "Why not mount one of the miniatures on a gunstock and put a ten farad condenser in the handle? Make a nice side arm." "Good for one shot, and not permanently charged. You'd have to cut your leakage down plenty." "Could be. Well, we'll work on that one afterwards. Let's get that drone fixed." "Let's fix up all the drones we have. And we'll have the boys wire up as many as they can of the little message-canisters. The whole works go at once at the same acceleration, with the little ones running interference for the big boy." "Murdoch invited us to 'come and get him,'" said Channing in a hard voice. "That, I think we'll do!" * * * * * Four smoldering derelicts lay in absolute wreckage on or near the four great spaceports of the solar system. Shipping was at an unequaled standstill, and the communications beams were loaded with argument and recriminations and pleas as needed material did not arrive as per agreement. Three ships paid out one dollar each gross ton in order to take vital merchandise to needy parties, but the mine-run of shipping was unable to justify the terrific cost. And then Don Channing had a long talk with Keg Johnson of Interplanetary Transport. One day later, one of Interplanetary's larger ships took off from Canalopsis without having paid tribute to Murdoch. It went free--completely automatic--into the Martian sky and right into Murdoch's hands. The pirate gunned it into a molten mass and hurled his demands at the system once more, and left for Venus since another ship would be taking off from there. In the _Relay Girl_, Don Channing smiled. "That finds Murdoch," he told Walt. "He's on the standard course for Venus from Mars." "Bright thinking," commented Walt. "Bait him on Mars and then offer him a bite at Venus. When'll we catch him?"