"Nothing strong enough to hold it. In some ways it's worse than atomic energy. It's so hot and under such pressure that if that lens were to blow up in Omaha it would burn up the whole United States, from San Francisco to New York City. It takes either thirty feet of solid inoson or else a complete force-bracing to stand the pressure. We had neither, no time to build anything, and couldn't have taken it through hyperspace even if we could have held it safely."
"Does that mean—"
"No. It simply means that we'll have to start at the fourth again and work up. I did bring along a couple of good big faidons, so that all we've got to do is find a planet heavy enough and solid enough to anchor a full-sized fourth-order projector on, within twenty light-years of a white dwarf star."
"Oh, is that all? You two'll do that, all right."
"Isn't it wonderful the confidence some women have in their husbands?" Seaton asked Crane, who was studying through number six visiplate and the fourth-order projector the enormous expanse of the strange Galaxy at whose edge they now were. "I think maybe we'll be able to pull it off, though, at that. Of course we aren't close enough yet to find such minutiae as planets, but how are things shaping up in general?"
"Quite encouraging! This Galaxy is certainly of the same order of magnitude as our own, and—"
"Encouraging, huh?" Seaton broke in. "If such a dyed-in-the-wool pessimist as you are can permit himself to use such a word as that, we're practically landed on a planet right now!"
"And shows the same types and varieties of stellar spectra," Crane went on, unperturbed. "I have identified with certainty no less than six white dwarf stars, and some forty yellow dwarfs of type G."
"Fine! What did I tell you?" exulted Seaton.
"Now go over that again, in English, so that Peggy and I can feel relieved about it, too," Dorothy directed. "What's a type-G dwarf?"