beenthe long-awaited signal for the entire Interstellar League fleet to ringthe void about Pronuleon II. "But on this mission we can't takechances."
Arna laughed feebly. "Can't take chances!" she echoed, and shook herhead.
Sy attempted a smile, sopped the streaming sweat from his eyes andstudied a chronometer. He clamped a drinking tube, then let it fall fromhis mouth. "Get on some clothes and G-shoes, woman. We're going to keepan appointment."
The _Needle's_ rotation slowly died; the vessel turned, lined up withPronuleon's orbit, burst her bonds with a tangential spurt and thenarced away from the seething fury behind.
Free of the obliterating sea of sun static, Sy threw open all detectionand reception circuits and flung his detector field to its farthestreaches, dimming its accuracy but increasing its range. Immediately hestared in consternation at the activity in the three-dimensional depthsof his screen. "Arna!" he called hoarsely. "Arna!" The girl ranclinkingly to him on jointed shoe-plates. "We're damn near too late," hegroaned. "Look, the fleets are approaching each other!" The tiny redscreen dot which indicated their position showed them to be on a coursethat would slice directly between both fleets. Sy leaped from the throneand fairly threw Arna into its confines. He braced his metal-shod feeton the deck and seized a ring cleat beside the control panel. "Steady asyou go!" he gritted. "This is it--and we've got to make it!"
"Sy! Can you control the gadgets from this distance?"
"Yeah--but we've got to stay in planetary range. _Don't leave thePronuleon system._" His fingers sped along a row of knobs. "I've got tocall our fleet."
"Contact the fleet _now_? But Sy--"
"Quiet, honey!" He glanced at her once, quickly. "I rigged those gadgetslike I intended to."
"_Sy!_" It was almost a scream. "What have you--"
"Shut up!" he snapped. "And that's an order!" Ignoring secrecy, code andeven special wavelength, he signaled the League flagship on an openchannel. He arranged a three-way video hook-up between the _Needle_,Admiral Grimes on the _Forward Star_ and Dr. Horace Wilton on the _MarsMoon_. "No time," he ground out. "Operation set up as scheduled--_butyou won't have to fire_. In five minutes all enemy crews will be flatunder eight G's; when ships stop, grapple and board. Out!" He brokecontact and turned to Arna. "Skitter and spit dust--use it all, but keepus clear for three minutes!" He locked both hands on the cleat andclosed his eyes in concentration.
* * * * *
In the deep recesses of his mind, he created a clear picture of atypical, prototype butterfly gimmick. He imagined it in the approximateposition it would be to keep a ship spinning slowly on its longitudinalaxis--to exert the mild centrifugal force permitted for battle alert andpreliminary maneuver. Then he _willed_ the little wings to benddownward--slowly--past the null-G setting--to fold--down ... to kiss ...to _close_....
After a seeming century, and from a great distance, Arna's voice reachedhim, dragged him up from autohypnotic depths. "Sy! Sy! They've stoppedfiring! The League's closing in! Sy!"
He straightened, relaxed his bloodless grip on the cleat, drew a deep,shuddering breath, shook his head to clear it. Throbbing pains began tocourse from his arms and shoulders, where they had been buffeted againstthe panel housing during Arna's wild, skillful gyrations. He looked atthe screen, adjusted it for close range.
Mote beside mote, League ships had paired off with the furiouslywhirling Alliance craft, attending all the major vessels and as manysmaller ones as their fewer numbers could cover. Sy smiled tiredly. Hecould almost see the Sur-Malic crewmen, unconscious, lying pinned totheir decks by their own terrible weight. Briefly, he closed his eyesagain....
* * * * *
"I couldn't actually test the gadget's reverse setting, of course," Syexplained to Dr. Wilton, "but I knew Arna's calc would check out toinfinity." He glanced through a window at the celebrating throngs below,in the streets of Dirik. "And now, sir," he turned to the girl at hisside, "I think she--uh--I mean we--or rather I have something to say toyou, sir. Uh...." He flushed and hesitated.
Arna took over competently. "I guess I'll simply have to marry thisbumbling hero, Dad. Not that I want to," she added, with a mischievousglance at Sy, "though his psychokinetics aren't much of a problem--but Ijust can't do a thing against that darn Superior Celerity he's beenusing on me!"
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