"Why," smiled Ann Delaney shyly, "it was really very simple. Heat, Captain."
"Heat?"
"Of course. As any student of thermodynamics knows, heat has a definite attractive force, varying directly as the difference in temperature. Space, being a vacuum, lacks heat entirely. Its temperature is that of Absolute Zero. Our gun emitted a heat-force equivalent to that of ten solar degrees. Thus the radiation we discharged at the bitter cold fragments of rock and ore comprising the Bog created a sort of passageway, an attractive channel down which the detritus was drawn. To state the problem more simply: have you ever watched a pot of beans boil? A seething whirlpool is created; the beans seek the heat."
"By golly!" said O'Hara. "I think you got something there, Miss Delaney. Why—why, that's terrific! That gives us a brand-new combat technique for locations where there are small cosmic bodies. Wait till the War Department hears it!"
But Ann Delaney just sniffed.
"New?" she repeated disdainfully. "New? Why, every woman cook knows that, Captain!"
You'll find the rest in the history books. Callisto did sign a pact with us ... the Federation did open a new front almost within spitting distance of Jupiter....
We've got a better universe to live in now. For one thing, there's peace throughout the Solar System. Because of Ann Delaney, the government changed its ruling about women in space; you'll find 'em everywhere, nowadays, doing everything and anything men do.
But I'm glad to say Ann isn't one of those void-vampires any more. She and I—oh, sure! We're married now. I couldn't let a swell cook like her get away, could I?