"By Heaven, Greg, I'll do it," said Wrail. He stepped quickly forward, held out his hand to close the deal, and encountered only air.

Manning's image threw back its head and laughed.

"That's your proof, Ben. Good enough?"

"I'll say it is," said Wrail shakily, looking down at the solid-seeming hand that his own had gone right through.

November 6, 2153, was a day long remembered in financial circles throughout the Solar System. The Ranthoor market opened easy with little activity. Then a few stocks made fractional gains. Mining dropped fractionally. Martian Irrigation still was unexplainably low, as was Pluto Chemical and Asteroid Mining.

Trading through two brokers, Ben Wrail bought 10,000 shares of Venus Farms, Inc. when the market opened at 83-1/2. A few minutes later they bought 10,000 shares of s.p.a.cesuits Ltd. at 106-1/4. The farm stocks dropped off a point. s.p.a.cesuits gained a point. Then suddenly both rose.

In the second hour of trading the Venus stocks had boomed a full five points and Wrail sold. Ten minutes later they sagged. At the end of the day they were off two points from the opening. In late afternoon Wrail threw his 10,000 shares of s.p.a.cesuits on the market, sold them at an even 110. Before the close they had dropped back with a gain of only half a point over the opening.

Those were only two transactions. There were others. s.p.a.ceship Fabrication climbed three points before it fell and Wrail cashed in on that. Mercury Metals rose two points and crashed back to close with a full point loss. Wrail sold just before the break. He had realized a cool half million in the day's trade.

The next day it was a million and then the man who had always been a safe trader, who had always played the conservative side of the market, apparently sure of his ground now, plunged deeper and deeper. It was uncanny. Wrail knew when to buy and when to sell. Other traders watched closely, followed his lead. He threw them off by using different brokers to disguise his transactions.

Hectic day followed hectic day. Ben Wrail did not appear on the floor.

Calls to his office netted exactly nothing. Mr. Wrail was not in. So sorry.

His brokers, well paid, were close-mouthed. They bought and sold. That was all.

Seated in his office, Ben Wrail was busy watching two television screens before him. One showed the board in the New York exchange. In the other was the image of Gregory Manning, hunched in a chair in Page's mountain laboratory back on Earth. And before Greg likewise were two screens, one showing the New York exchange board, the other trained on Ben Wrail's office.

"That Tourist stuff looks good," said Greg. "Why not buy a block of it?

I happen to know that Chambers owns a few shares. He'll be dabbling in it."

Ben Wrail grinned. "It's made a couple of points, hasn't it? It's selling here for 60 right now. In 45 minutes it'll be quoted at 62."

He picked up a telephone. "Buy all you can of Tourist," he said. "Right away. I'll tell you when to sell. Get rid of whatever you have in t.i.tan Copper at 10:30."

"Better let go of your holdings of Ranthoor Dome," suggested Greg. "It's beginning to slip."

"I'll watch it," promised Ben. "It may revive."

They lapsed into silence, watching the board in New York.

"You know, Greg," said Ben finally, "I really didn't believe all this was true until I saw those credit certificates materialize on my desk."

"Simple," grunted Greg. "This thing we've got can take anything any place. I could reach out there, grab you up and have you down here in a split second."

Ben sucked his breath in between his teeth. "I'm not doubting anything any more. You sent me half a billion two days ago. It's more than doubled now."

He picked up the phone again and spoke to his broker on the other end.

"Unload Ranthoor Dome when she reaches 79."

The real furor came on the Ranthoor floor when Wrail cornered t.i.tan Copper. Striking swiftly, he purchased the stock in huge blocks. The shares rocketed as the exchanges throughout the System were thrown into an uproar. Under the cover of the excitement he proceeded to corner s.p.a.cesuits Ltd. s.p.a.cesuits zoomed.

For two days the main exchanges on four worlds were in a frenzy as traders watched the shares climb swiftly. Operators representing Interplanetary Power made offerings. No takers were reported. The shares climbed.

Within one hour, however, the entire Wrail holdings in both stocks were dumped on the market. The Interplanetary Power traders, frantic over the prospect of losing control of the two important issues, bought heavily.

The price plummeted.

Spencer Chambers lost three billion or more on the deal. Overnight Ben Wrail had become a billionaire many times over. Greg Manning added to his own fortune.

"We have enough," said Greg. "We've given Chambers what he had coming to him. Let's call it off."

"Glad to," agreed Ben. "It was just too d.a.m.ned easy."

"Be seeing you, Ben."

"I'll get down to Earth some day. Come see me when you have a minute.

Drop in for an evening."

"That's an invitation," said Greg. "It's easy with this three-dimension stuff."

He reached out a hand, snapped a control. The screens in Wrail's office went dead.

Wrail reached for a cigar, lit it carefully. He leaned back in his chair, put his feet on the desk.

"By Heaven," he said satisfiedly, "I've never enjoyed anything so much in all my life."

_CHAPTER EIGHT_

A giant cylindrical hull of finest beryl steel, the ship loomed in the screen. A mighty ship, braced into absolute rigidity by monster cross beams of shining steel. Glowing under the blazing lamps that lighted the scene, it towered into the shadows of the factory, dwarfing the scurrying workmen who swarmed over it.

"She's a beauty," said Russ, puffing at his pipe.

Greg nodded agreement. "They're working on her day and night to get her finished. We may need it some day and need it in a hurry. If Chambers really gets that machine of his to rolling, s.p.a.ce will be the only place big enough to hide in."

He chuckled, a grim chuckle, deep in his throat.

"But we won't have to hide long. Just until we get organized and then will come the time when we'll call for the showdown. Chambers will have to spread his cards."

Russ snapped the television switch and the screen went blank. The laboratory suddenly was a place of queer lights and shadows, bulging with grotesque machines, with sprawling apparatus, a place that hinted darkly of vast power and mighty forces.

The scientist sat up in his chair. "We've come a long way, Greg. A long, long way. We have the greatest power man has ever known; we have an almost incomprehensible s.p.a.ce drive; we have three-dimensional television."

"And," said Greg dryly, "we took Chambers to the cleaners on the market."

They sat in silence. Greg smelled the smoke from Russ's pipe, mixed with the taint of lubricant and the faint lingering scent of ionized air.