"A field of nuclear space-strain is set up by the circuit, and the ship, reacting against the entire mass of the universe, moves without need of rockets—right?" asked the Earthman.
"Wrong," said Urushkidan.
"Well, we'll build it anyway," said Ray. "Here, Dyann, bring that generator over this way, will you?"
"I vant to go monster-huntin," she sulked.
"Bring—it—over, you lummox!"
Dyann glared, but stooped over the massive machine and, between Ganymedean gravity and Varannian muscles, staggered across the floor with it. Ray was checking circuits on the oscilloscope. Urushkidan sat grumbling about heat and humidity and fanning himself with his ears. The lab was a mess of tubes, condensers, rheostats, and tangled wire.
"I'm stuck," wailed Ray. "I need a resistor having so and so many ohms along with such-and-such a capacitance. Find me one, quick."
"If you would specify your units more precisely—" began Urushkidan huffily.
Ray pawed through the litter on the floor, putting one object after another into his testing circuit, glancing at the meters, and throwing it across the room. "It's vital," he said.
"Vill this do, maybe?" asked Dyann innocently, holding out the ship's one and only frying pan.