Suddenly it seemed to Dennis that there was even more at stake than the smashing of a dangerous outlaw, than the recovery of his former state in the I.S.P., or the avenging of Marla, if she were dead--the destiny of Terra was at stake too. As if one of those cross-roads of Life, at which an individual is sometimes poised by fate, had opened before his gaze, and history awaited being written in the invisible pages of space. He had come prepared to die to fulfill a mission--but now matters had changed. The need was not to die, but to live, that an unsuspecting world might rise to new heights of achievement on the incredibly radio-active marvel of this unknown planetoid. With a swift movement he threw on the panel switch, and his voice boomed out: "All hands attention! Koerber has seen us, no doubt. But whether or not he's fore-warned, we attack as scheduled. Stand-by!" The I.S.P. Cruiser swept back up the long valley, until it was almost opposite the Pirate's camp. Only the tremendous mountain range separated them. Glancing at the banks of keys, the instruments and dials under the V-Screen, Dennis issued orders: "Scotty, give it everything you have!" He grinned as Scotty gave back one of his inimitable replies. "Dallas!" "Yes, sir!" "Take the stern turret, and start firing when we pull out--angle thirty-eight, precision!" He again threw a quick glance at the panel. "Randall! Take forward position, secondary turret. Hold fire till they open up, or until I give you the command. Got it?" "Yes, sir," Randall's voice was tense. It was then Captain Dennis turned to his Navigator. "I'll take the main forward turret myself, Jeffery! Now, use a thirty-five degree dive, pull out at five-hundred feet and use MA-24 to pull out and regain altitude." He grinned fleetingly at the startled Jeffery. "But ... but you're going to man the forward turret--get the gunner, Cap'n ... I...." But Dennis silenced him with a swift gesture. "Taking no chances, I want to be sure that spawn of Barrabas's smeared, if I have to do it myself!" * * * * * The long, gleaming cruiser was like the spear of the Angel Gabriel, unerring, fatal, as the skillful fingers of its navigator in the control room swept over the keys and the ship obediently canted downward. Suddenly it took the plunge in a supernal power-dive that sent it hurtling straight at the Pirate's camp below. All around the cruiser a rain of Genton-shells exploded in buffeting succession, as the cruiser quivered and strained holding the dizzying dive.