“Solving new equations—differential equations at that—all the while?”
“Certainly. Don’t interrupt so. I stick around until the sigma curve, extrapolated to zero time, matches one of my bombs. I build up the right velocity, cut that bomb loose, shoot myself off in a sharp curve, and Z-W-E-E-T—POWIE! She’s out.” With an expressive, sweeping gesture.
“You hope.” Strong was frankly dubious. “And there you are, right in the middle of the damndest explosion you ever saw.”
“Oh, no. I’ve gone free in the meantime, so nothing can touch me.”
“I hope! But do you realize just how busy you are going to be during those ten or twelve seconds?”
“Yes.” Cloud’s face grew somber. “But I’ll be in full control. I won’t be afraid of anything that can happen—of anything that can happen. From my standpoint, that’s the hell of it.”
“QX,” the Lensman decided, “You can go. We’ll iron out the kinks as we go.”
“We?”
“I’ll be in the lookout shack with the boys, at least on the first ones. When do you want to start?”
“How long will it take to fix up the flitter?”