"I don't think they did. They're firing at us—the rocket shell only happened to be between," snapped Haines.
"Ferrati," he called into his mike, "fire a shrapnel shell at them when I say the word. Advise me when ready!"
Ferrati's voice snapped back. "Right you are, sir. Here it is now, one minute—okay, on target!"
While Ferrati and Boulton were readying their shot from the lower cargo port near the tail of the ship, Haines and Burl had been fitting the largest of their shells into their own launcher. They aimed it carefully at the front-most sphere of the enemy.
"Ferrati, fire!" cried Haines, and then slowly counted to five and pressed the stud of his own launcher.
There was a momentary flicker as Ferrati's rocket shell raced forth below. Then, after a definite time lapse, the exhaust of Haines' heavy shell appeared.
"The shrapnel shell is segmented and doesn't have a proximity guide," Haines explained. "As soon as it's on its way, the nose comes apart into a dozen small shells, each with a standard explosive charge. The shell we used has an atomic bomb warhead and is on proximity guide. It'll chase that ship to the ends of the system if they don't blast it first."
He paused. There was another bolt of raw energy from the dumbbell-shaped craft, and this time a series of flares in the space between—the shrapnel charges had been touched off. Burl held his breath.
"I figure it takes them a while to recharge their gun," said Haines. "Our own blockbuster should get there before they fire again."
Then suddenly there came a sharper flare of brilliant light. For an instant Burl was blinded by the glare. When he recovered, he peered avidly through the telescopic sighter. He saw the ship, but where there had been a golden sphere there was now only a shattered fragment of twisted metal.