"Their photo-cells can't handle that,” cried Russ. “No photo-cell would handle all that stuff you're shooting at them. Unless…"
"Unless what?"
"Unless Craven has improved on them."
"We'll have to find out. Get the televisor."
Russ leaped for the television machine.
A moment later he lifted a haggard face.
"I can't get through,” he said. “Craven's got our beams stopped and now he has our television blocked out."
Greg nodded. “We might have expected that. When he could scramble our televisors back in the Jovian worlds, he certainly ought to be able to screen his ship against them."
He shoved the lever clear over, slamming the extreme limit of power into the beam. The engines screamed like demented things, howling and shrieking. Instantly a tremendoussheet of solid flame spun a fiery web around the Interplanetarian, turning it into a blazing inferno of lapping, leaping fire.
A dozen terrific beams, billions of horsepower in each, stabbed back at the Invincible as the Interplanetarian shunted the terrific energy influx from the over-charged accumulators to the various automatic energy discharges.