Now, all the men of the Brittania's storming party were Valerians, and therefore were big, hard, fast, and agile; and of them all, their sergeant leader was the biggest, hardest, fastest, and most agile. When the space-tempered apex of that thirty-pound monstrosity, driven by the four-hundred-odd pounds of rawhide and whalebone that was his body, struck pirate armor, that armor gave way. Nor did it matter whether or not that hellish beak of steel struck a vital part after crashing through the armor. Head or body, leg or arm, the net result was the same; a man does not fight effectively when he is breathing space in lieu of atmosphere.
VanBuskirk perceived the danger to his men in the slowly turning ray projector, and for the first time called his chief.
"Kim," he spoke in level tones into his microphone. "Blast that delta ray, will you?... Or have they cut this beam, so you can't hear me?... Guess they have."
"They've cut our communication," he informed his troopers then. "Keep them off me as much as you can and I'll attend to that delta-ray outfit myself."
Aided by the massed interference of his men, he plunged toward the threatening mechanism, hewing to right and to left as he strode. Beside the temporary projector mount at last, he aimed a tremendous blow at the man at the delta-ray controls; only to feel the ax flash instantaneously to its mark and strike it with a gentle push, and to see his intended victim float effortlessly away from the blow. The pirate commander had played his last card: VanBuskirk floundered, not only weightless, but inertialess as well!
But the huge Dutchman's mind, while not mathematical, was even faster than his lightninglike muscles, and not for nothing had he spent arduous weeks in inertialess tests of strength and skill. Hooking feet and legs around a convenient wheel, he seized the enemy operator and jammed his helmeted head down between the base of the mount and the long, heavy steel lever by means of which it was turned. Then, throwing every ounce of his wonderful body into the effort, he braced both feet against the projector's grim barrel and heaved. The helmet flew apart like an eggshell; blood and brains gushed out in nauseous blobs. But the delta-ray projector was so jammed that it would not soon again become a threat.
Then VanBuskirk drew himself across the room toward the main control panel of the warship. Officer after officer he pushed aside, then reversed two double-throw switches, restoring gravity and inertia to the riddled cruiser.
In the meantime the tide of battle had continued in favor of enforcement. Few survivors though there were of the black-and-silver force, of the pirates there were still fewer, fighting now a desperate and hopeless defensive. But in this combat quarter was not, could not be thought of, and Sergeant VanBuskirk again waded into the fray. Four times more his horribly effective hybrid weapon descended like the irresistible hammer of Thor, cleaving and crushing its way through steel and flesh and bone. Then, striding to the control board, he manipulated switches and dials, then again spoke evenly to Kinnison.
"You can hear me now, can't you?... All mopped up. Come and get the dope!"