force in the Fenachrone atmosphere. Working out
of that projector, beams of force seized one of the immense cylinders of
plated copper and at Seaton's direction transported it rapidly to one of
the poles of the planet, where electrodes of force were clamped upon it.
In a similar fashion seventeen more of the frightful bombs were placed,
equidistant over the surface of the world of the Fenachrone, so that
when they were simultaneously exploded, the downward forces would be
certain to meet sufficient resistance to assure complete demolition of
the entire globe. Everything in readiness, Seaton's hand went to the
plunger switch and closed upon it. Then, his face white and wet, he
dropped his hand.

"No use, Mart--I can't do it. It pulls my cork. I know darn well you
can't either--I'll yell for help."

"Have you got it on the infra-red?" asked Dunark calmly, as he shot up
into the projector in reply to Seaton's call. "I want to see this, all
of it."

"It's on--you're welcome to it," and, as the Terrestrials turned away,
the whole projector base was illuminated by a flare of intense, though
subdued light. For several minutes Dunark stared into the visiplate,
savage satisfaction in every line of his fierce green face as he
surveyed the havoc wrought by those eighteen enormous charges of
incredible explosive.

"A nice job of clean-up, Dick," the Osnomian prince reported, turning
away from the visiplate. "It made a sun of it--the original sun is now
quite a splendid double star. Everything was volatized, clear out, far
beyond their outermost screen."

"It had to be done, of course--it was either them or else all the rest
of the Universe," Season said, jerkily. "However, even that fact doesn't
make it go down easy. Well, we're done with this projector. From now on
it's strictly up to us and _Skylark Three_. Let's beat it over there and
see if they've got her done yet--they were due to finish up today, you
know."

* * * * *

It was a silent group who embarked in the little airboat. Half way to
their destination, however, Seaton came out of his blue mood with a
yell.

"Mart, I've got it! We can give the _Lark_ a lot more acceleration than
they are getting--and won't need the assistance of all the minds of
Norlamin, either."

"How?"

"By using one of the very heavy metals for fuel. The intensity of the
power liberated is a function of atomic weight, or atomic number, and
density; but the