ner of the room. That triangular affair. A condenser of some sort.
That stuff they're throwing at us must be super-saturated force fields
and they'd need a space-field condenser for that."

Russ nodded. "We'll take care of that."

His fingers moved swiftly and a transport beam whipped out, riding the
television beam. Bands of force wrapped around the triangular machine
and wrenched viciously. In the screen the apparatus disappeared ...
simply was gone. It now lay within the _Invincible's_ control room,
jerked there by the tele-transport.

The flood of dazzling light reaching out from the _Interplanetarian_
snapped off and the little green ameba things were gone. The shrill
whistle of escaping air stopped as the eaten screens clamped down again,
sealing in the atmosphere despite the holes bored through the metal
plates.

In the television screen, Craven leaped from his chair, was staring with
Stutsman at the place where the concentrator had stood. The machine had
been ripped from a welded base and jagged, bright, torn metal gleamed in
the control room lights. Snapped cables and broken busbars lay piled
about the room.

"What happened?" Stutsman was screaming. They heard Craven laugh at the
terror in the other's voice. "Manning just walked in and grabbed it away
from us."

"But he couldn't! We had the screen up! He couldn't get through!"

Craven shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know how he did it, but he did.
Probably he could clean out the whole place if he wanted to."

"That's a good idea," said Russ, judiciously.

He stripped bank after bank of the other ship's photo-cells from their
moorings, wrecked the force field controls, ripped cables from the
engines and left the ship without means of collecting power, without
means of using power, without means of movement, of offense or defense.

* * * * *

He leaned back in his chair and regarded the screen with deep
satisfaction.

"That," he decided, "should hold them for a while."

He hauled the pipe out of his pocket and filled it from the battered
leather pouch.

Greg regarded him with a quizzical stare. "You sent the televisor back
in time. You got it inside the _Interplanetarian_ before Craven had run
up his screen and then you brought it forward."

"You guessed it," said Russ, tamping the tobacco into the bowl. "We
should have thought of that long ago. We have a time factor there. In
fact, the whole thing revolves aroun