Back to the pilot's chair again. He toyed with the gun. The ship had turned now so that the other vast heaving horizon cut across the view. "Oh, hell!" Jim said, and brought the gun's muzzle to his mouth. [Illustration: _"Oh, hell!" Jim said and brought the gun's muzzle to his mouth._] Then he lowered it, sweat poured down into his eyes as his forehead wrinkled in dull puzzlement. He should be thinking about something, he was forgetting something. Jim tried to cudgel his heat-beclouded brain into some semblance of order.... Water, explosion, change of velocity.... Where was the drain outlet for the water supply located? He laid the gun aside and riffled through a drawer of blueprints, until he found the piping layout. Now he explored the maze of piping along the ship's sunward side. There it was, a little brass valve with a pipe leading to the outside skin. The valve was hot enough to sear his hand. Jim carefully wrapped his handkerchief around the handle and twisted gently. Inside pressure squirted a thin stream of water from the supply tank into the hot vacuum of space. As it vaporized and dissociated into its atoms, Jim felt a mighty surge of expansion against the ship. The blows of a soft fist pummeled the side. Jim groaned as the softened plates of the hull creaked and buckled, but he held the valve as it was. An inside panel split and let a thin sifting of insulation drift to the deck. His knee was against the deck plates and he became conscious of the burning through the cloth of his uniform. But he stayed there, until through the windows he saw nothing but the speckled black of space turn slowly up. Then he shut the valve off and, rubbing his burned knee, anxiously hobbled to the tracer. The red line had not so much swoop to it now. "Ya!" he shouted exultantly. The centrifugal force from his forward velocity needed just a little help to begin pushing him away from the sun. Jim read the water tank gauge; about twenty gallons left. * * * * * Fidgeting, he waited another hour. The sun's horizon swung up into view, the blazing plain filled the windows and at last he saw again the other horizon. It would not do to twist the valve too soon; he had to wait until the outlet was directly toward the sun so he wouldn't lose any precious forward velocity. The sun's horizon bisected the windows. Now! Encouraged by his other success, Jim twisted the valve hard. He stepped back so his sore knee would not rest against the plates. The ship bounced like a beachball in the tremendous upshoot of the gases outside. Jim clung to a stanchion to keep from being knocked off his feet. Like a rubber ball dimpled by a thumb, the ship's skin began to bulge inward. Jim tried to let go his hold to get the valve.