"Sparks, is Biggs there! Yes? Get him here _quick_! And find the Old Man! Hurry! For God's sake--" We were out of there like a flash--make that _two_ flashes--and pounding through the corridors, up the ramp to the bridge. We met Cap Hanson on the way. The three of us burst into the control-room to find Wilson tearing his hair, and Dick Todd, sweating, white-faced, poring over diagrams on the chart-board. Somebody yelled, "What's the matter?" and I can't tell you who, because it was probably all of us. And Dick's eyes were haggard pockets in his face. "_Jupiter!_" he said. "What about it?" yelled the skipper. "Talk, man!" Todd shoved the chart at Biggs, pointed with a finger that wobbled. "It's on our trajectory! Right before us _now_! We can see it--Look!" And he threw back the shield, and my heart gave an awful lurch. For no longer was the scene before us one of changing, iridescent beauty--the entire pane was covered by a gigantic, menacing platter. A monstrous missile of death. The planet Jupiter--dead on our course! Lancelot Biggs' face, which had been keen and alert a moment before, was suddenly a dull, blank mask of horror. Strangled words fought their way from his throat. "I--I didn't realize! I forgot all about Jupiter when I plotted the return course! I--" "Forgot!" roared the skipper. "Great comets--forgot!" Then his wrath died in anxiety. "Do something. Turn off that blasted unit of yours so we can loft over her--" But Todd shook his head. "That's no use, Skipper. I thought of that. We're too close. We're caught in her gravitational attraction anyway. Even if we were to turn off Biggs' device, there still wouldn't be time to get the rockets hot." "Lanse--" began the skipper. Then, "Where did he go?" * * * * * Because Biggs had turned, suddenly, and raced from the room! Fled, still clutching the space-chart. Fled, and not a word of advice, regret or hope. And with him went our last dwindling hope of salvation. Dick Todd's voice was thin. "Maybe he has an idea, sir?" Hanson grasped at the thought as a drowning man. "That's it, Todd. He'll pull us out of this. He's never failed us in the past--" But even this wishful expression was doomed to swift contradiction. For at that moment the bridge audio flashed, and the voice of a sailor clacked from somewhere below. "Captain Hanson, sir? There--there's trouble down here! Lieutenant Biggs has violated regulations, sir! He knocked down two men and forced his way into the auxiliary lifeboat! He--he's locked the door, sir. What shall we do?" In the moment of silence that followed, I saw something I hope I shall never be forced to look upon again. I saw a proud man wilt before my eyes; I saw a strong man age ten years in as many seconds. The man was Captain Hanson. The strength sloughed from his shoulders; pain burned deep furrows in his eyes; I could barely hear the whisper that crept from his lips.