An Uneven Duel

But to return to my narrative, and my swooper, from which I was gazing at the interior of the Han ship.

But back to my story and my swooper, from which I was looking inside the Han ship.

This ship was not unlike the great dirigibles of the Twentieth Century in shape, except that it had no suspended control car nor gondolas, no propellers, and no rudders, aside from a permanently fixed double-fishtail stabilizer at the rear, and a number of "keels" so arranged as to make the most of the repeller ray airlift columns.

The ship was shaped much like the great dirigibles of the Twentieth Century. But it had no suspended control car, gondolas, propellers, or rudders. Instead, it had a permanently fixed double-fishtail stabilizer at the rear. It also had several "keels" arranged to make the most of the repeller ray airlift columns.

Its width was probably twice as great as its depth, and its length about twice its width. That is to say, it was about 100 feet from the main keel to the top-deck at their maximum distance from each other, about 200 feet wide amidship, and between 400 and 500 feet long. It had in addition to the top-deck, three interior decks. In its general curvature the ship was a compromise between a true streamline design and a flattened cylinder.

The ship was probably twice as wide as it was deep, and about twice as long as it was wide. At its deepest point, the main keel was about 100 feet below the top deck. The ship was about 200 feet wide at its midpoint and between 400 and 500 feet long. In addition to the top deck, it had three interior decks. Its overall shape was a compromise between a truly streamlined design and a flattened cylinder.

For a distance of probably 75 to 100 feet back of the nose there were no decks except that formed by the bottom of the hull. But from this point back the decks ran to within a few feet of the stern.

For probably 75 to 100 feet behind the nose, the hull's bottom was the only deck. But from that point back, the decks ran to within a few feet of the stern.

At various spots on the hull curvature in this great "hollow nose" were platforms from which the crews of the dis ray generators and the electronoscope and electronophone devices manipulated their apparatus.

Platforms stood at various points along the curved hull inside this great "hollow nose." From them, crews operated the dis ray generators and the electronoscope and electronophone devices.

Into this space from the forward end of the center deck, projected the control room. The walls, ceiling and floor of this compartment were simply the surfaces of viewplates. There were no windows or other openings.

The control room extended into this space from the front of the center deck. Its walls, ceiling, and floor were simply the surfaces of viewplates. There were no windows or other openings.

The operation officers within the control room, so far as their vision was concerned, might have imagined themselves suspended in space, except for the transmitters, levers and other signalling devices around them.

From what they could see, the officers in the control room might have imagined they were suspended in space. Only the transmitters, levers, and other signaling devices around them suggested otherwise.

Five officers, I understand, had their posts in the control room; the captain, and the chiefs of scopes, phones, dis rays and navigation. Each of these was in continuous interphone communication with his subordinates in other posts throughout the ship. Each viewplate had its phone connecting with its "eye machines" on the hull, the crews of which would switch from telescopic to normal view at command.

As I understand it, five officers had posts in the control room. They were the captain and the chiefs of scopes, phones, dis rays and navigation. Each was in constant interphone contact with subordinates at other posts throughout the ship. Each viewplate had a phone connecting it to its "eye machines" on the hull. Their crews would switch from telescopic to normal view when ordered.

There were, of course, many other viewplates at executive posts throughout the ship.

Of course, there were many other viewplates at executive posts throughout the ship.

The Hans followed a peculiar system in the command of their ships. Each ship had a double complement of officers. Active Officers and Base Officers. The former were in actual, active charge of the ship and its apparatus. The latter remained at the ship base, at desks equipped with viewplates and phones, in constant communication with their "correspondents," on the ship. They acted continuously as consultants, observers, recorders and advisors during the flight or action. Although not primarily accountable for the operation of the ship, they were senior to, and in a sense responsible for the training and efficiency of the Active Officers.

The Hans had an unusual system for commanding their ships. Each ship had two sets of officers: Active Officers and Base Officers. The Active Officers were in charge of the ship and its equipment. The Base Officers stayed at the ship base, at desks equipped with viewplates and phones. They were in constant communication with their "correspondents," on the ship. Throughout a flight or action, they served as consultants, observers, recorders, and advisors. They were not primarily responsible for operating the ship. However, they outranked the Active Officers and were responsible, in a sense, for their training and efficiency.

The ionomagnetic coils, which served as the casings, "plates" and insulators of the gigantic condensers, were all located amidship on a center line, reaching clear through from the top to the bottom of the hull, and reaching from the forward to the rear rep-ray generators; that is, from points about 110 feet from bow and stern. The crew's quarters were arranged on both sides of the coils. To the outside of these, where the several decks touched the hull, were located the various pieces of phone, scope and dis ray apparatus.

The ionomagnetic coils served as the casings, "plates" and insulators of the gigantic condensers. They were all located amidships along the center line, extending from the top to the bottom of the hull. They ran from the forward to the rear rep-ray generators, about 110 feet from the bow and stern, respectively. The crew's quarters were on both sides of the coils. Beyond the quarters, where the decks met the hull, were the various pieces of phone, scope and dis ray apparatus.

The ship into which I was gazing with my ultroscope (at a telescopic and penetrative setting), carried a crew of perhaps 150 men all told. And except for the strained looks on their evil yellow faces I might have been tempted to believe I was looking on some Twenty-fifth Century pleasure excursion, for there was no running around nor appearance of activity.

The ship I was watching through my ultroscope carried a crew of perhaps 150 men in all. I had set the device to magnify and see through the ship. Their evil yellow faces looked strained. Otherwise, I might have thought I was watching a Twenty-fifth Century pleasure excursion. No one was running around, and there was no sign of activity.

The Hans loved their ease, and despite the fact that this was a war ship, every machine and apparatus in it was equipped with a complement of seats and specially designed couches, in which officers and men reclined as they gazed at their viewplates, and manipulated the little sets of controls placed convenient to their hands.

The Hans loved their comfort. Although this was a warship, every machine and apparatus had seats and specially designed couches. Officers and men reclined in them as they watched their viewplates and operated small sets of controls within easy reach.

The picture was a comic one to me, and I laughed, wondering how such soft creatures had held the sturdy and virile American race in complete subjection for centuries. But my laugh died as my mind grasped at the obvious explanation. These Hans were only soft physically. Mentally they were hard, efficient, ruthless, and conscienceless.

The image struck me as funny, and I laughed. I wondered how such soft creatures had kept the sturdy, virile American race under their complete control for centuries. But my laughter died as I grasped the obvious explanation. These Hans were only physically soft. Mentally, they were hard, efficient, ruthless, and without a conscience.

Impulsively I nosed my swooper down toward the ship and shot toward it at full rocket power. I had acted so swiftly that I had covered nearly half the distance toward the ship before my mind slowly drifted out of the daze of my emotion. This proved my undoing. Their scopeman saw me too quickly, for in heading directly at them I became easily visible, appearing as a steady, expanding point. Looking through their hull, I saw the crew of a dis ray generator come suddenly to attention. A second later their beam engulfed me.

On impulse, I pointed my swooper down at the ship and shot toward it at full rocket power. I acted so quickly that I had covered nearly half the distance before I slowly came out of my emotional daze. That was my undoing. Their scopeman spotted me too soon. Because I was heading straight at them, I was easy to see, appearing as a steady point growing larger. Looking through their hull, I saw the crew of a dis ray generator suddenly snap to attention. A second later, their beam engulfed me.

For an instant my heart stood still. But the inertron shell of my swooper was impervious to the disintegrator ray. I was out of luck, however, so far as my control over my tiny ship was concerned. I had been hurtling in a direct line toward the ship when the beam found me. Now, when I tried to swerve out of the beam, the swooper responded but sluggishly to the shift I made in the rocket angle. I was, of course, traveling straight down a beam of vacuum. As my craft slowly nosed to the edge of the beam, the air rushing into this vacuum from all sides threw it back in again.

For an instant, my heart stopped. But the inertron shell of my swooper was impervious to the disintegrator ray. I was out of luck, though, when it came to controlling my tiny ship. I had been hurtling straight toward the ship when the beam caught me. Now, when I tried to swerve out of the beam, the swooper responded sluggishly to my adjustment of the rocket angle. Of course, I was traveling straight down a beam of vacuum. As my craft slowly nosed toward the edge of the beam, air rushed into the vacuum from all sides. It pushed the craft back into the beam.

Had I shot my ship across one of these beams at right angles, my momentum would have carried me through with no difficulty. But I had no momentum now except in the line of the beam, and this being a vacuum now, my momentum, under full rocket power, was vastly increased. This realization gave me a second and more acute thrill. Would I be able to check my little craft in time, or would I, helpless as a bullet itself, crash through the shell of the Han ship to my own destruction?

If I had shot my ship across one of these beams at a right angle, my momentum would have carried me through easily. But now I had momentum only in the direction of the beam. And because I was now in a vacuum, my momentum had increased enormously under full rocket power. That realization gave me another, sharper thrill. Would I be able to stop my little craft in time? Or would I be as helpless as a bullet, crashing through the shell of the Han ship and destroying myself?

I shut off my rocketmotor, but noticed no practical diminution of speed.

I shut off my rocket motor, but I noticed no real decrease in speed.

It was the fear of the Hans themselves that saved me. Through my ultroscope I saw sudden alarm on their faces, hesitation, a frantic officer in the control room jabbering into his phone. Then shakily the crew flipped their beam off to the side. The jar on my craft was terrific. Its nose caught the rushing tumble of air first, of course, and my tail sailing in a vacuum, swung around with a sickening wrench. My swooper might as well have been a barrel in the tumult of waters at the foot of Niagara. What was worse, the Hans kept me in that condition. Three of their beams were now playing in my direction, but not directly on me except for split seconds. Their technique was to play their beams around me more than on me, jerking them this way and that, so as to form vacuum pockets into which the air slapped and roared as the beams shifted, tossing me around like a chip.

It was the Hans’ own fear that saved me. Through my ultroscope, I saw sudden alarm on their faces, then hesitation. A frantic officer in the control room babbled into his phone. Then the crew shakily swung their beam to the side. My craft jolted violently. Its nose caught the rushing tumble of air first, of course. With the tail still moving through a vacuum, it swung around with a sickening wrench. My swooper might as well have been a barrel in the churning waters at the foot of Niagara. Worse still, the Hans kept me in that condition. Three of their beams were now aimed in my direction, but they struck me directly for only split seconds. They swept their beams around me rather than at me, jerking them this way and that. This created pockets of vacuum. As the beams shifted, air rushed into those pockets with a slapping roar, tossing me around like a chip.

Desperately I tried to bring my craft under control, to point its nose toward the Han ship and discharge an explosive rocket. Bitterly I cursed my self-confidence, and my impulsive action. An experienced pilot of the present age would have known better than to be caught shooting straight down a dis ray beam. He would have kept his ship shooting constantly at some angle to it, so that his momentum would carry him across it if he hit it. Too late I realized that there was more to the business of air fighting, than instinctive skill in guiding a swooper.

I desperately tried to control my craft, aim its nose at the Han ship, and fire an explosive rocket. I bitterly cursed my self-confidence and impulsive action. An experienced pilot of this age would have known better than to fly straight down a dis ray beam. He would have kept his ship moving at an angle to the beam. That way, if he hit it, his momentum would carry him across it. Too late, I realized that air fighting took more than an instinctive skill for guiding a swooper.

At last, when for a fraction of a second my nose pointed toward the Hans, I pressed the button of my rocket gun. I registered a hit, but not an accurate one. My projectile grazed an upper section of the ship's hull. At that it did terrific damage. The explosion battered in a section about fifty feet in diameter, partially destroying the top deck.

At last, my nose pointed toward the Hans for a fraction of a second. I pressed the button on my rocket gun. I scored a hit, but it wasn't accurate. My projectile grazed the upper part of the ship's hull. Even so, it did tremendous damage. The explosion caved in a section about fifty feet across, partially destroying the top deck.

At the same instant I had shot my rocket, I had, in a desperate attempt to escape that turmoil of tumbling air, released a catch and dropped all that it was possible to drop of my ultron ballast. My swooper shot upward, like a bubble streaking for the surface of water.

The instant I fired my rocket, I released a catch and dropped as much ultron ballast as I could. I was desperate to escape the churning air. My swooper shot upward like a bubble racing to the surface of the water.

I was free of the trap in which I had been caught, but unable to take advantage of the confusion which reigned on the Han ship.

I had escaped the trap, but I couldn't take advantage of the confusion on the Han ship.

I was as helpless to maneuver my ship now, in its up-rush, as when I had been tumbling in the air pockets. Moreover I was badly battered from plunging around in my shell like a pellet in a box, and partially unconscious.

I was as helpless to control my ship as it rushed upward as I had been while tumbling in the air pockets. I was also badly battered from being tossed around inside my shell like a pellet in a box. I was partly unconscious.

I was miles in the air when I recovered myself. The swooper was steady enough now, but still rising, my instruments told me, and traveling in a general westward direction at full speed. Far below me was a sea of clouds, stretching from horizon to horizon, and through occasional breaks in its surface I could see still other seas of clouds at lower levels.

I was miles in the air when I came to. The swooper was steady enough now, but my instruments showed it was still climbing. It was heading generally west at full speed. Far below me, a sea of clouds stretched from horizon to horizon. Through occasional breaks, I could see more seas of clouds at lower levels.