"Another thing," said Wes. "We re-transmit the pure iron and heterodyne the impulses into other elements. We can start with iron and end up with any of the other elements, merely by introducing the proper heterodyning impulse." "That's not bad." "I've got several elements that start off where the Periodic Chart ends. The boys in the chemistry lab are investigating the properties of Venium, Channium, Frankine, Ardenium, and Farrelline right now." "Who picked the names?" grinned Don. "Arden." "O.K., Wes, but keep looking for that non-reproducible substance." "I will. It may be--" Farrell was interrupted by the insistent call on the station intercom for Don Channing. Don went to his office to find the Terran beam awaiting his presence. He lifted the phone and identified himself. "This is P. L. Hughes of the Interplanetary Criminal Office," came the answer. "I didn't do it," grinned Channing. "Besides, I gotta alibi." "O.K.," came the amused answer. "No use talking then." "Just a minute," said Don. "I might as well know what I'm being suspected of. Whom have I murdered?" "No one, yet. Look, Channing, we're having a time here." "What kind?" "Phony money." "So?" "Yes. The trouble is that it isn't phony. You can always detect spurious coins and counterfeit bills by some means or another. We have bits of nita-fluorescin in the bills that is printed into the paper in a pattern which is symbolically keyed to the issue--date, the serial number, and the identifying marks on the face of the bill. It takes a bit of doing to duplicate the whole shooting-match, but we've been getting stuff that we know is phony--but, Channing, I have the original and the duplicate here on my desk and I can't tell which is which!" "Give me more." "I have a hundred dollar bill here--two of them in fact. They are absolutely alike. They are both bona fide as far as I or my men can tell from complete analysis, right down to the bits of stuff that get ground into a bill from much handling. I have coinage the same way. Isn't there something that can be done?" "We are trying to find a substance that cannot be duplicated," explained Channing. "Given time, we will. Until then, I'm helpless." "What do you suggest?" "I don't know. I've been hoping that we could control the situation until something sensible could be worked out. It slipped out of hand. I'd suggest that you'd stop operations because of the absolute impossibility of keeping your thumb on things. I'd forget the counterfeiting angle entirely and start building up a force to guard against riots, mob rule and minor, intercommunity warfare." "I think you're right," said Hughes, and Channing knew that the head of the Interplanetary Criminal Office was nodding his head. Channing hung up the telephone and toyed with three copies of the judge's watch that were keeping identical time. He shook his head and wondered how it was all going to end. * * * * *