"It's a magnetic gyrofish!" he cried as he saw the torpedo curve after them. "Roger, can you plot her for me?"
"Working on it now, Tom!" yelled Roger over the intercom.
"How in blazes did that thing get out here?" muttered Connel.
"We'll have to worry about that later, I'm afraid, sir," replied Tom. "We're going to have our hands full getting away from her. With that magnetic warhead, she'll follow us all over space unless we can throw her off."
"Which will take some doing!" grunted Connel, frowning in deep concern.
"Hey, Tom!" Roger's voice called over the intercom. "It's blasting on maximum thrust now. We have a pretty good chance. Use that idea we worked out. Make a series of left turns and always on the up-plane of the ecliptic!"
"Right!" said Tom, clutching the master manual-control lever and beginning to fly the giant ship through space by "feel."
"What in blazes are you doing, Corbett?" shouted Connel in sudden alarm.
"Just hang on and watch, sir," replied Tom, keeping his eyes on the scanner where he could see the space torpedo trailing them. Over and over, Tom kept slamming the ship into sharp left turns, while the torpedo followed in an ever-narrowing circle.
"All right, Tom!" yelled Roger again. "Give it the same thing on the right and the down-plane of the ecliptic!"