As I tried to jerk my unused pistol from its holster, Spartan reached Gail with a single thirty-foot bound. He swept her from behind the barricade and held her as a shield as he turned the gun on me.
I couldn't use my pistol without hitting Gail.
A bullet struck the ramp to the spaceship, just beside Spartan's head, knocking a piece of metal against his arm. He didn't hear the shot, but he felt the splinter strike. He turned his head. Axel was lying on the ground, still clutching his side with his left hand, but holding his pistol in his right.
Spartan lifted his gun to fire at Axel, and I, taking advantage of the instant in which he turned to defend himself, leaped.
Martian gravity, being what it is, permits a man to make prodigious jumps. I sailed like a man in slow motion over the rocks and I struck Spartan, still clutching Gail, in a football tackle, bowling them over.
I grabbed his gun, twisted it from his hand.
Gail struggled and wriggled out of his arms.
But the gravity that had aided me, now worked against me. Somehow, Spartan managed to throw himself upward and I was literally bumped into the air. He rolled out from under and dived for the gun.
I came down, grabbed his foot and pulled him away, but he twisted free.
We were both encased in spacesuits and it would have taken a battering ram to hurt either of us. Fists were useless, even though Spartan didn't realize this. Nor did I until I felt him hit me. The blow, I scarcely felt, but the force behind it sent me staggering back.