"But there's something wrong, Drac."
"We've got five acceleration."
Grantline had joined us in the turret. "How would you say, at a guess, that ship is from us now?"
"Thirty thousand miles; about that." Drac his page of calculations. "Impossible to with any exactness; they their so often and I can't out how large the thing is."
"Say they've got a thousand velocity; added to our ten, that's fifty."
"And we're accelerating. In an hour we'll be range."
"But there's something wrong," I persisted.
For minutes now I had been aware that the Cometara was acting strangely. A response to the controls, I thought, but when I called engine Franklin, he had not noticed it. Yet I was certain.
Grantline at me. "Something wrong?"
"Yes. Drac, try us. I did it ten minutes ago." I him at my equations, the with the Sun, Earth and Moon which we should now have. "There's our as it ought to be. Measure how we're heading, position. If it's what it ought to be, with the plate-combinations I'm using, then I'm crazy."
"Oh, you're just naturally apprehensive," Grantline said.
But we were not where we should be. The Cometara was off her course. And then I the of error. There was a here for which I was[52] not allowing. The error was not the Cometara; she was perfectly. But there was a upon her, and not that of the Sun, Earth, Moon or the starfield. I had calculated all of these. It was something else. Some pull, so that we were not upon the of we should have been on.
"But what be wrong?" Grantline demanded.
It was Drac who it. "That from the enemy's bow?"
It was that, we certain. Even at this thirty thousand mile distance, the bow-beacon upon us. We not see that it the Cometara, our measure any added illumination. Our flight-orbit, if held, would us with a some ten thousand miles above the South Pole of the Moon. It would in of the that the enemy was maintaining. But we were off our course, with a side-drift toward the enemy. That bow-beacon was a upon us, a pull.
Grantline when Drac said it. "If it's that now, what will it be when we closer?"
The minutes were passing. The thirty thousand miles us and the enemy was cut to ten thousand; to five. The ship was soon visible to the eye. Its movement, for all this time only as a upon the images of our instruments, now was obvious. We see it forward, see that we would its bow. Within fifty miles? We and that would be the result, so that with this we use our weapons. Fifty miles of at of some fifty thousand miles an hour: that would be something like three from a collision. The of a collision, which ships would do anything to avert, was negligible; in the of space two objects so small not each other, with intention, once in a times.
We not the so closely, but it that the enemy could. The bow-beacon radiance, so a of the light-beams from Earth, Mars and Venus, now away from us and was extinguished. Whatever of our course[53] the enemy had made, they to be satisfied. The would be to their liking. Would it be to ours?
Grantline had left the turret. He was on the deck, with his men. The were ready.
We had long since the possibility of mathematical calculations with our position in relation to the enemy, but it that the would be fifty miles. Grantline's would their that far.
It was two thousand miles away now. Two minutes of time the passing. I at it, a long, low ship of dark metal, red where the moonlight upon it. I its size to be about that of the Cometara, but it was much more nearly globular. Upon its top, to project from the dome, was an up-pointing funnel, like the of an old-fashioned surface steam vessel; or like a great black of an old-fashioned gun. And in a along the middle of the there was a series of little discs.
The was still a blob, but every it was enlarging, its size. Drac said tensely, "Fifteen hundred miles! We'll pass in a minute and a half."
I the of the rocket-streams. The slowly swinging; the enemy ship up over us. I was our top to it, so that Grantline might fire directly from almost simultaneously. It might be possible, if I roll us over at just the proper seconds.
But the enemy us. As they our roll, again the bow-beacon on. It visibly us, all our length in its radiance.
It for an to do nothing. Our did not crack; there was no shock. But our side-roll slowed. The stopped their swing, and then back! We were upon an again, the enemy level with our bow. Against the of my rocket-streams this had us. It a more, and again vanished.
Grantline's with his voice: "Gregg, roll us over! Quick! I can only fire from one side."
"I can't."[54]
It was too late now. A hundred miles of distance! Drac me, through the port. And I stared, breathless, the results of these next seconds.
The ships passed like crossing, meteors. A of final approach; I saw the enemy as an elongated, globe, with a triple-terraced and it. That on top! The discs, like ten-foot eyes, along the of the hull.
One of Grantline's a flash. Still out of range. The of our from our side. The enemy was untouched.
The at me: Anita! Not killed by that one.
Another from Grantline.
No result. It that I saw the strike. There was a reddening, a upon that hull, but nothing more.
I was aware again of the enemy bow-beam upon us. The was pressing us over again so that in a moment we would be hull-bottom to the enemy and Grantline not fire.
He it. The ship was to us. In the second of that I saw that it was not fifty miles away, ten. Grantline his bolts. The enemy was a going by; and all in that second it was past, in the distance. Untouched by our bolts? It so. The ahead of it. The shape, unharmed, in the us.
And it had done nothing to us!
The were in my hands. I would shift the gravity-plates, and make the turn we could. We would go around the Moon, probably, and come an hour or two. Perhaps our would also turn to us again.
At that second I had not the little discs, but I saw them now! They came in a line, ten foot, flat, of a dark metal; they where the painted them. They had been the enemy and in our they had been discharged. They now like plates. There twenty of them, in a toward us.[55]
Grantline's voice came again from the audiphone. "Missed them, Gregg. That's what I but at least two of our must have struck. But it didn't them."
"No," I replied. "It not. They must have a barrage."
Drac was at me. "Those out there, those discs...."
Grantline demanded, "Yes, what in are they?"
We not tell. It that their would take them our stern. Grantline added: "Will you try going after that ship?"
"Yes."
But I did not. To the the enemy ship had already disappeared; but with the 'scopes we saw that it to be turning.
I did not attempt to turn us, for we were of those which took all our attention. They passed five miles of us, but in a great they and now across our bow. With what they had been by their mechanisms! Their them a mile or so ahead of us.
They were us like in a ellipse. Our attraction, the normal of our close bulk, was them to us.
The men on the Cometara's gazing, but not yet alarmed. The calls with each time the passed across our and stern. In the cubby, Waters was still trying to an Earth station.
Grantline came to the turret. "If those things, should us, Gregg!"
I had set the gravity-plates into new combinations, our downward, trying to us under the plane of the discs' orbit. But they with us; they were no more than two thousand away now.
Grantline said, "At the next I'll fire at them."
Drac looked up from his calculating instruments. "Look! A rotation: Horribly swift. But I've a picture. Look!"[56]
He had a still image of one of the discs. It had saw-teeth at its thin knife-like circumference. Whirling at speed, these saw-toothed metal might cut into our dome, or some other part of our ship.
At the next round, Grantline fired. The a little, but came on unharmed. From the other side, he again. Three of the to have been full. His bolts, for their ten of at this close, thousand-foot range, took effect. The three to with a of queerly-radiant spark-glows, then were gone.
But the others came in.
The Cometara now with the and of the men. Grantline not set his fast to fire at every round.
I had a thought. With the rockets, I rolled us over. For a moment we were hull-down to the discs. From our gravity-plates I a full repulsion. Would it them off, their outward? It did not. Their was unaltered.
Again Grantline was at me, "Roll us back! I must fire!"
It had been an error, that rolling; Grantline of it. I us level. The passed a hundred feet; a dozen of them were still closer. Gleaming, circles, thin as knife-blades; they passed close under our stern, came broadside.
These were tense, seconds. The our bow; one to miss our by inches. Grantline's four more, but there were still eight of them. They in at our stern.
I was aware of the Cometara. The and were up to the quarter-deck. My second officer there, stricken. The his warning.
Useless! I saw one of the our dome, then another. Still others. They were blows, but it that I them into the dome-plates.
The was cracking! Then, after that instant, came the sound: crunch, a rumble; the of and[57] metal; then the and of the explosion.
I saw the whole of the cracking, outward, by our air pressure. And over all the Cometara the air was and with a of wind.
I shouted, "Drac! Close the bulkhead!"
I set the word-buttons for the siren, and the lever. Its voice over the uproar. "Keep forward! Take the space-suits! Prepare to ship!"
