Carlos was well aware of the danger, evidently. The great ship strained and heaved under them. Almost at Frank's feet a plate started its seams. The truth struck him like a blow. The _Champ_ was not built for close quarters maneuvering. Her mass was so great ... her skeleton was relatively so weak ... that she was physically incapable of dodging the flexible patrol boats. And, since her tubes were still comparatively cool, she did not have the power to outdistance them. "Come on S.P. Come on, you sons of guns," he whooped, staggering to his feet as a torpedo caromed into one of the _Champ's_ jets and glanced off to explode harmlessly several miles away. "You stinking Pumper!" He ducked as the words ripped through the phone. The bullet meant for his brain whined against the side of his helmet. "Luring me out here when I shoulda been gettin' a fix...." There was no time to shift his shoes. He flung himself sidewise and just managed to grab the radar operator's wrist as she fired again. The gun spiralled into darkness and they were fighting breast to breast. Greta was strong as an ox; she got a grip on his air hose and wrenched at the connection. He jammed an elbow into her well padded solar plexus. As she relaxed with a grunt he reached down and tore her magnetized boots from the skin of the ship. "Now, my lady...." She smashed her helmet down upon his in an effort to break its glass front and suffocate him. With all his remaining strength he untangled her arms from his neck and hurled her into space. A scream rattled his earphones ... died slowly into silence! Fighting for breath, he clung to the hull and gave his attention to the battle. A suicide dive by the nearest patrol boat ripped two more blazing tubes from the _Champ's_ side. A lucky torp struck amidships, boring completely through the _Champ_ and then driving on for several miles before exploding.... Those warheads must have deteriorated, he thought bitterly. Nevertheless the _Champ_ was hurt, and hurt badly. But she was still accelerating. And she was beginning to fight back. A torpedo tube twenty feet away swivelled and belched a wicked fish. Moments later a patrol ship disappeared in a flash which temporarily blinded the watcher. That had been only a fission torp, he knew. But what if that crazy Carlos decided to chance one of the new disintegrators? A hit on one of the attackers would destroy the whole fleet. On the other hand, a miss.... As his sight returned he stared down at Venus in growing horror. If Hans had been right, a miss would explode the planet and might make the whole solar system go Nova!