In futility, he gave up. She could not hear. An hypnosis took him, held him in its grip.
"Ralph," she said. "Watch carefully."
He shook himself.
Angrily, he fought the controls. Madly he tried to urge another dyne from the drivers. He would be—too late.
"Jenna! Don't!"
"Ralph, I'm approaching the bomb. I am now seventy feet from it. See?"
Seventy feet?
"I'm seventy feet from it, Ralph, because I've thought only of you. Not once have I thought of defus—"
The blast caught the diving ship and stopped it in its tracks, turned it end for end and sent it rocketing crazily away from the mad scene of turbulence. It arched high into the sky, tumbling. Numb, Lindsay reacted automatically. War, hatred, suspicion. All boiled up in his mind.
The answer? It was clear, finally. The how and the why and the wherefore. His problem—solved.