And on a roof by the shore of Lake Michigan, a group of men stood in overcoats beside a huge machine that towered above the great letters of the Terran Electric Company sign that could be seen all the way from Gary, Indiana. It was a beautiful thing, this tube; a far cry from the haywire thing that had brought solar power to Venus Equilateral. It was mounted on gymbals, and the metal was bright-plated and perfectly machined. Purring motors caused the tube to rotate to follow the sun. "Is she aligned?" asked the project engineer. "Right on the button." "Good. We can't miss with this one. There may have been something sour with the rest, but this one ran Venus Equilateral--the whole Relay Station--for ten days without interruption." He faced the anxious men in overcoats. "Here we go," he said, and his hand closed upon the switch that transferred the big tube from test power to operating power. The engineer closed the switch, and stepped over to the great, vaned, air-cooled ammeter shunt. On a panel just beyond the shunt the meter hung-- At Zero! "Um," said the project engineer. "Something wrong, no doubt." They checked every connection, every possible item in the circuit. "Nothing wrong." "Oh now look," said the project engineer, "This isn't hell, where the equipment is always perfect except that it doesn't work." "This is hell," announced his assistant. "The thing is perfect except that it doesn't work." "It worked on Venus Equilateral." "We've changed nothing, and we handled that gadget like it was made of cello-gel. We're running the same kind of voltage, checked on Standard Voltmeters. We're within one tenth of one percent of the original operating conditions. But--no power." "Call Channing." The beams between Terra and Venus Equilateral carried furious messages for several hours. Channing's answer said: "I'm curious. Am bringing the experimental ship to Terra to investigate." The project engineer asked: "Isn't that the job that they hooked up to use solar power for their drive?" His assistant said: "That's it. And it worked." "I know. I took a run on it!" * * * * * Channing was taking a chance, running the little _Anopheles_ to Terra, but he knew his ship, and he was no man to be overcautious. He drove it for Terra at three G, and by dead reckoning, started down into Terra's blanket of air, heading for the Terran Electric plant which was situated on the lake shore. Then down out of the cloudless sky came the _Anopheles_ in a free fall. It screamed with the whistle of tortured air as it fell, and it caught the attention of every man that was working at Terran Electric. Only those on the roof saw the egg-shaped hull fall out of the sky unchecked; landing fifteen hundred yards off shore in Lake Michigan. The splash was terrific. "Channing--!" said the project engineer, aghast. "No, look, there--a lifeship!"