The Invincible's screen flared in defense and the ten great engines wailed in utter agony. More stabbing flame shot from the Interplanetarian in slow explosions.
The temperature in the Invincible's control room was rising. The ozone was sharp enough to make their eyes water and nostrils burn. The vision glass was blanked out by the lapping flames that crawled and writhed over the screen outside the glass.
Russ tore his collar open, wiped his face with his shirt sleeve. “Try a pure magnetic!"
Greg, his face set and bleak as a wall of stone, grunted agreement. His fingers danced over the control manual.
Suddenly the stars outside twisted and danced, like stars gone mad, as if they were dancing a riotous jig in space, some uproariously hopping up and down while others were applauding the show that was being provided for their unblinking eyes.
The magnetic field was tightening now, twisting the light from those distant stars and bending it straight again. The Interplanetarian reeled like a drunken thing and the great arcs of electric flame looped madly and plunged straight for the field's very heart.
The stars danced weirdly in faroff space again as the Interplanetarian's accumulators lashed out with tremendous force to oppose the energy of the field.
The field glowed softly and disappeared.
"They have us stopped at every turn,” groaned Russ. “There must be some way, something we can do.” He looked at Greg. Greg grinned without humor, wiping his face. “There is something we can do,” said Russ grimly. “We should have thought of it long ago."
He strode to the desk, reached out one hand and drew a calculator near.