aim a kick at the screen but thought better
of it. A small wave almost made him sit down on the deck before he got
both feet planted again. He swore and started to check the wiring.

"Maybe there's something wrong inside the dingus itself," John Andrew
suggested tentatively.

Ray turned on him with a look that would have seared the Sphinx.
"There's _nothing_ wrong with the machine!" he said,
almost-but-not-quite shouting. "There's _nothing_ wrong with the
television! There's _nothing_ wrong with the wiring! There _must_ be
something wrong at the other end--where the Ray is focussed! And I
intend to find out!"

Farmer pondered the idea of a transmitter that worked under water like a
ball-point pen, broadcasting weary vaudeville routines. He scratched his
head and looked wistfully at the New England shoreline--or was that Long
Island? He wasn't sure any more....

* * * * *

A clank and clatter brought his attention to the launch. He gawked; Ray
had thrown back a deck hatch and produced a diving suit which looked as
un-shipshape as the rest of the boat's equipment.

Ray looked it over hastily, then turned a speculative glance on Farmer.
He shook his head. "Too small for you," he murmured. "You wouldn't know
what to look for anyway; I'll have to go down myself."

Farmer changed his mind again about Ray's being cracked. "Listen." He
said the first thing that came to mind. "Didn't you say you rented this
boat for the first time today? How do you know that thing doesn't leak?"

Ray smiled again, as he climbed briskly into the suit. "I'll be all
right," he said serenely. "You just keep an eye on things here--but
don't touch anything. I'll be right back...." He settled the helmet on
his head, motioned for Farmer to help him check the connections of the
suit's self-contained oxygen supply.

John Andrew was straightening up from doing this when he saw the nonapus
for the first time. It was climbing over the rail at the stern, and
already beginning to make a puddle on the deck. Farmer froze, and gulped
wordlessly.

Behind the barred faceplate, Ray looked puzzled, then annoyed. From the
corner of his eye, Farmer could see Milton Berle still cavorting
silently on the television screen, and this seemed to add the final
touch of insanity to the scene. Farmer finally succeeded in pointing,
and Ray clumped slowly in a half-circle, just as the nonapus dropped to
the deck with a plank-shivering t