"What happened, Clee?" All three were exclaiming at once. "I found my manipulable field, but a bomb went off in my brain when I straightened it out." He searched his mind anxiously, then smiled. "But no damage done--just the opposite. It opened up a Gunther cell I didn't know I had. Didn't it sock you, too, Belle?" "Uh-uh," she said, more than half bitterly. "I must not have one. That makes you a Super-Prime, if I may name a new classification." "Nonsense! Of course you've got it. Unconscious, of course, like me, but without it you couldn't have conditioned the field. But why.... Oh, what bit me was the one conditioned to me." "Oh, nice!" Belle exclaimed. "Come on, Clee--let's go get mine!" "Do you want a bit of knowledge _that_ badly, Belle?" Lola asked. "Besides, wait, he isn't strong enough yet." "Of course he's strong enough. A little knock like that? _Want_ it! I'd give my right leg and ... and almost _anything_ for it. It didn't kill him, so it won't kill me." "There may be an easier way," Garlock said. "I wouldn't wish a jolt like that onto my worst enemy. But that had two hundred kilovolts and four hundred kilogunts behind it. Since I know now where and what the cell is, I think I can open it up for you without being quite so rough." "Oh, lovely. Come in, quick! I'm ready now." * * * Garlock went in; and wrought. It took longer--half an hour, in fact--but it was very much easier to take. "What did it feel like, Belle?" Lola asked, eagerly. "You winced like he was drilling teeth and struck a couple of nerves." "Uh-uh. More like being stretched all out of shape. Like having a child, maybe, in a small way. Let's go, Clee!" They joined up and went. "Ha, _there_ you are, you cantankerous little fabrication of nothings!" Belle said aloud, in a low, throaty, gloating voice. "Take _that_--and _that_! And now behave yourself. If you don't, mama spank--but _good_!" Then, breaking connection, "Thanks a million, Clee; you're tall, solid gold. Do you want to run some more tests, to see which of us is the intergalactic transporter?" "Not unless you do." "Who, me? I'll be tickled to death not to; just like I'd swallowed an ostrich feather. Back to Tellus, then?" "Tellus, here we come," Garlock said. "Jim, what are the Tellurian figures for exactly five hundred miles up?" "I'll punch 'em--got 'em in my head." James did so. "Shall Brownie and I set our blocks?" "No," Belle said. "Nothing can interfere with us now." "Ready." Garlock sat down in the pilot's seat. "Cluster 'round, chum." * * * Belle leaned against the back of the chair and put both arms around Garlock's neck. "I'm clustered." "The spot we're shooting at is exactly over the exact center of the middle blast-pit at Port Gunther. In sync?" "To a skillionth of a whillionth of a microphase. I'm _exactly_ on and locked. Shoot."