"Nothing,--that's the hell of it. I've been kicking myself for not figuring it out before. That gadget's nothing but a fined-up subetheric communicator. We used them before the Lorcom was developed. There's an explosive charge, but the arming mechanism was burned off. And that's it." "Not quite," Fiske said. "There was a direct neural connection. And that's why they fight as a unit. A ship's commander would have complete charge of his ship like a brain with a hundred bodies--and he's probably hooked up with a squadron C.O. And the squadron C.O.--what a system!" Fiske cut off and twisted the selector. "Communications!" he said. "Aye sir." "Contact Chief Engineer Sandoval, tape his data and send it to Prime." "Sorry sir--can't be done!" "What!" "Yes sir--there's an interference blanket in Cth that you can't drive anything through. I've been trying to raise Base for an hour." "When did this come on?--Why wasn't I informed." "It came on about an hour ago, and you were busy. We've never had anything like this before, sir. I thought I'd try to punch a beam through it before I quit." "All right--break out the message torps--tape the data and send them off." "But--" "That's all, Lieutenant--get cracking." "Aye sir." "Well--that's a new wrinkle," Fiske observed. "They've figured out our Lorcom--and we're jammed." Pedersen looked up from the control board. "Hmm--doesn't smell so good. They wouldn't jam us unless they had something else up their sleeves. They're figuring on stopping us, no doubt." Fiske nodded. "I thought of that--but how?" "Damned if I know--but they've got some idea." "Well two can play at this jamming game--and we'll deal with the other thing when it comes." Fiske dialed Sandoval. "Sandy"--he said as the engineer's face appeared on the screen. "Can your boys build an all wave subetheric broadcaster?" "Yes and no," Sandoval said. "We can build one--but we're not able to. No components." "How about modifying the Lorcom?" "That wouldn't be too tough. But you can't be thinking of--" "How long would it take?" "Twenty hours minimum. You realize, of course, that it's going to deprive us of long range communications." "All right, so we lose them. They're worthless anyway. We're being jammed. Now get going on that conversion, and cut all the time you can." "Aye sir." * * * * * Sandoval's boys must have sweated blood, Fiske thought, for it was barely twenty two hours before the Chief's heavy voice came over the intercom. "It's finished, sir," Sandoval said. "We're ready to roll." "Good," Fiske replied. "What's the output?" "A kilowatt across the board." "Hmm--not so good.--We're not going to blanket much with that." "You'll get through all right; but you can't expect any more than that. If you want to jam you'd better concentrate on the 1400 band. You can smother anything in that area."