When Morey woke, some hours later, he found Arcot still at work on his calculations.
"Hey!" he said, swinging himself into the chair beside Arcot, "I thought you'd be on the lookout for more cosmic rays!"
"Curious delusion, wasn't it?" asked Arcot blandly. "As a matter of fact, I've been busy doing some figuring. I think our chance of meeting another such region is about one in a million million million million. Considering those chances, I don't think we need to worry. I don't see how we ever met one—but the chances of hitting one are better than hitting two."
Just then Fuller stuck his head in the door.
"Oh," he said, "so you're at it already? Well, I wonder if one of you could tell me just what it was we hit? I've been so busy I haven't had a chance to think."
"Don't take the chance now, then," grinned Morey. "You might strain your brain."
"Please!" Fuller pleaded, wincing. "Not before breakfast. Just explain what that storm was."
"We simply came to a region in space where cosmic rays are created," explained Arcot.
Fuller frowned. "But there's nothing out here to generate cosmic rays!"
Arcot nodded. "True. I think I know their real source, but I believe I'll merely say they are created here. I want to do more work on this. My idea for an energy source greater than any other in the universe has been confirmed.