But before I could even finish, there came an interruption that turned my spinal column to a slow trickle of icy water. The plates beneath my feet seemed to sag momentarily, then rise and hurl themselves forward. I slipped and fell to my hands and knees--and found it hard to rise again! A dull weight fastened itself upon me. Nor was I the only person so stricken. Diane had tumbled, too, and Cap Hanson was holding onto an upright stanchion for dear life. Gilchrist lay prone on his puss, his face a mask of terror. And the audio rasped with an ominous cry from the bridge. "Captain Hanson! Captain Hanson, sir, come quickly! We've been caught by Sol's gravs!" * * * * * Well, it was about that time my heart began pounding the hell out of my shoelaces. Up to now I had been disgusted and sore and fretful, but not in the least worried. In spite of Gilchrist's pork-patedness, I had felt a serene confidence that before danger actually threatened Lance Biggs would find some way to wangle us out of our difficulties. But now-- But now we were in a sorry mess indeed! Caught in a gravitational grip thousands of times greater than Jupiter's; a million times more deadly. Once, from afar, I had been the unwilling but horror-fascinated witness of the fate of a ship gripped by Sol's terrific attraction. A dark mote struggling futilely against the brazen magnet that beckoned ... a moment's brief and hopeless essay to escape ... then a tiny, ochre flame glinting wanly.... Such a vision must have been flashing, also, through the mind of Major Gilchrist. For from his prostrate vantagepoint he loosed a howl of sheer panic. "Oh, no!" he screamed. "Oh, no! No! No! No!" How long that monotonous denial would have continued there is no way of guessing. But Cap Hanson, who despite all his faults has little use for a fool and _no_ use for a coward, put an abrupt end to it. Straining against the pressure that half-immobilized us, he lurched to Gilchrist's side, bent and silenced the efficiency expert's wailing with a sense-rousing slap across the cheek. "Stop that, you damn fool!" he roared. "The audio's open! Do you want to panic every man aboard this ship?" And as Gilchrist relapsed into whimpering silence, he swiveled to me heavily. "Sparks, there's only one chance. The velocity-intensifier. Tell Garrity--" The velocity-intensifier, or V-I unit to give it its more common name, was that device invented by Biggs which enables a spaceship to increase its normal cruising speed to an incredible 186,000 mps--the speed of light! I could see the Old Man's idea. Attain that velocity and we might break free of Sol's hold. I said, "Aye, sir!" and was just about to cry the necessary orders to the engine-room when: "_No!_" The familiar voice of Lt. Lancelot Biggs rang through the turret. "No, Sparks! Don't do that! It is sure death! As our speed increases, so does our mass! We'll only accelerate our fall into the Sun!"