Lindsay leaped forward, hoping to get between them. Jenna went forward instinctively, putting up a small hand. Garrard looked at them reflectively, half aware of the incident and half convinced that if they were to fight, they would regardless of any act of man. It was the strident ringing of the telephone that stopped them in their tracks; staying Grant's fist in midswing. Jenna breathed out in a husky sound. "Who was that at Gary?" asked General Haynes. "We lost Harris." "Same as before?" Lindsay nodded glumly, forgetting that Haynes couldn't see him. Then he added: "Didn't even get close." "What in thunder have they got?" asked Haynes. It was an hypothetical question, the general did not expect an answer. He added, after a moment of thought: "You've tried everything?" "Not everything. So far as I've been able to tell, the things will sit there until we go after 'em. They'll foul up production areas until we go after 'em, and then when we're all gone--what then?" "Lindsay! Take hold, man. You're ... you're letting it get you." Lindsay nodded again. "I admit it. Oh, I'll be all right." "Well, keep it up--trying I mean. We're tinkering with the spotters and predictors and we hope to get 'em up to the point where they'll act on those lightning fast jobs." "We'll be getting to Old London," said Lindsay. "That's next. Good thing they dispersed cities a century ago, even granting the wall shield." "Good luck, Lindsay. And when you've covered all the mechanico-electrical angles, look for other things." He hung up, but Lindsay pondered the last remark. _What did he mean?_ * * * * * The ship was on its way to Old London before Lindsay called for a talk-fest. "We don't know anything about these things excepting that they go off when we approach 'em," said Lindsay. "Has anybody any ideas?" "Only mine," grunted Jack Grant with a half-smile. "Something triggers 'em off whenever we come close." "Couple of hundred feet," growled Lacy, "isn't close enough to permit operation of any detector capable of registering the human body without some sort of radiation output." "Not direct detection," agreed Lindsay, facing Grant again. Grant nodded. Then Garrard said: "I've an idea. But I'm mentioning it to no one." "Why?" "I don't want to tip my hand." "Thought you weren't a gambler," jeered Grant. "I'm not. I can't foresee the future, written though it is. I'll play it my way, according to my opinion. The fact that I feel this way about it is obviously because it is written so." "Oh Brother!" grunted Jack Grant. "With everything all written in the Book of Acts, you still do things as you please because so long as you desire to do things that way it is obvious that the Gods wrote it?" Garrard flushed. And Lindsay said: "Grant, you're a born trouble-maker."