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At that moment Major Connel climbed into the radar bridge, followed by Astro.

"Time to go," announced the officer.

"Go where?" demanded Roger.

"We have to abandon ship," declared Connel. "The power deck is shot. We'll never get under way, and we're just sitting ducks if we stay aboard."

"What's to prevent Devers from picking us off while we're outside?" asked Roger.

"Nothing," said Connel. "But he'll have a harder job and maybe he won't get all of us."

"Then, sir," said Tom with a glance at Roger, "I have an idea."

"Let's have it," said Connel.

"The projectiles, sir," replied Tom.

"What about them?"

"We can still fire them off the emergency batteries, sir."

"Will you get to the point, Corbett?" growled Connel. "Devers is liable to send another torpedo our way any second and—" Connel suddenly stopped and his eyes widened. "A torpedo!" he gasped.

"Exactly, sir!" exclaimed Tom. "We have five projectiles! We can use them as torpedoes!"

"Jumping Jupiter!" exclaimed Astro. "What a terrific idea!"

"What a terrific pipe dream!" snapped Connel. "Those projectiles don't have any warheads!"

"They could still do a lot of damage if they hit that ship," asserted Tom.

"And how do you expect to aim them?" demanded Connel. "There's not enough juice in the batteries to steer them!"

"We'll just fire them straight ahead, sir," broke in Roger. "Look!" he continued, pointing to the scanner screen. "Devers' ship is just circling us now. And he's on the same plane of the ecliptic. If he holds that course—"

"He'll cross our bow!" exclaimed Astro excitedly. "A perfect shot!"

"Ridiculous!" shouted Connel. "Preposterous! It'll never work in a million light years! He'll fire another torpedo and we'll be blasted into space dust!"

"But we can try it, can't we, sir?" asked Tom, grinning.

"Of course we can!" roared Connel. "I've never given up a battle yet and, by the stars, I'm not going to now!"

Forgetting rank and protocol, the three cadets danced around the major, slapping him on the back and howling their enthusiasm. Connel could not restrain a momentary grin and then his features assumed his usual bulldog look.

"Knock it off!" he shouted. "We've got work to do. Manning!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Keep your eyes nailed to that scanner!" Connel bellowed. "Sing out if Devers changes course by so much as a hair!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

"Astro!"

"Sir?"

"Put space suits on Professor Hemmingwell and Barret and stand by with them on the control deck."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

"Corbett, you and I will check the projectiles. Make sure they're in firing order!"

Spinning on his heel, Connel left the radar bridge. Alone for just an instant, the three cadets of the Polaris unit clasped hands in silent determination and then plunged into their various assignments.

Five minutes later, Connel and Tom returned to the control deck to find Astro waiting for them. Professor Hemmingwell and Barret, both in space suits, were seated on acceleration couches. As Connel walked up to him, Hemmingwell raised his head slowly, still under the effects of the sedative.

"What's—what's happening, Major?" he asked haltingly.

"Professor," said Connel, "one of two things is going to happen. Either your ship will be blown to space dust or Carter Devers will be finished and we'll bring your ship back to Earth!"

"Good, good," murmured Hemmingwell.

"And as for you, Barret"—Connel turned toward the man angrily—"now you can see what kind of thanks you get for your dirty work! Your boss is just as willing to get rid of you as he is to destroy this project!"

Barret flushed under Connel's glare and turned away.

At the control panel, Tom opened the circuits to the five loaded firing chambers and then turned to Connel. "All set to fire, sir!" he called.

"Any word from Manning?" asked Connel.

"Not while I've been here," replied Astro.

Connel picked up the intercom microphone. "Hello, Manning!" he shouted. "What's the story?"

"Coming up to the last chapter," replied Roger over the intercom. "Devers is holding course. Should cross our bow in two