"_Awfully_ close!" complained the skipper. He turned to Todd suddenly. "Dick--we can't risk it! There must be a mistake somewhere. Jupiter fills all space before us. If we get caught in its gravitational power, we'll all be killed. "We've got to turn back. Send the message down to the engine-room. Reverse motors and lift!" Diane cried, "Daddy! But Lanse--" "I'm sorry, honey. But we can't risk twenty lives and a quarter million credits' worth of Corporation property on the hazard of finding one man. Give the order, Mr. Todd!" Todd said willingly, "Aye, sir!" and reached out to push the audio stud. My heart sank. The needle was almost upon the split second that should have seen us putting Biggs' mysterious plan into operation. I yelled, "Skipper, _please_!" "Give the order, Todd!" repeated Hanson regretfully. But Todd's hand never reached the button. For just then there came a terrific, straining lunge of the ship; the floor seemed to slip beneath my feet, I toppled headlong to my knees. Plates groaned and creaked in metal agony. I felt a sensation of wild acceleration, a dizzying sense of speed intensified, plunging us forward--downward-- And Todd cried, "Too late! Too late, Skipper! God help us--we're falling onto Jupiter!" * * * * * I told you folks say I'm hard-boiled. People also claim I'm a wingding. They say lots of things about me--none of them nice. But I'll say this one thing for myself in self-defense. That once in a million times I show a good streak of common sense. This was one of those times. While everyone else was wailing and hollering and going off the top of their buds, I got smart and carried on. I roared, "Dammit all, Lanse _knew_ this was going to happen, and planned for it. Depress that No. 3 lever, Todd! Shoot the juice through those coils we've been building!" And Todd was so rattled that he obeyed me. Like I told you before, we'd created a wild-looking network of wires all over the framework of the _Saturn_. We had even constructed a whole new inner hull, juicing it according to some diagram that didn't appear to make sense. Now rheostats rheostated and condensers condense and the air got so full of electricity that my teeth began to hum like bees in a bathtub. And it got hot in the control-turret. But-- But our frightful plunging motion ceased! Not just like _that_, you know; I don't mean we stopped stock-still and hung motionless in space. But we drifted into an easy glide. A gentle, leaf-in-the-breeze sort of motion. Cap Hanson's jaw fell down to his fourth button. A gasp worked its way up out of his lumbar region. "It--it's impossible!" he said. "I--I don't believe it!"