the sizzling attack of the missile.
It's lost you! Joe called, as the missile continued its crazy career
through space, beginning to yaw from side to side as it hunted for a
target and at last bursting in self -destruction.
Keep going, Davey, Joe encouraged him, but keep awake, there will be
more. They both saw the next one leave the ground from its camouflaged
vehicle. There was a nest of them on a rocky ridge above a sun-blasted
plain. The Serpent slid off the rock and lifted into the sky, climbing
rapidly towards David's little machine.
Light your tail, Joe told him, and wait for it! He watched the missile
boring in, converging with dazzling speed on David's Mirage.
Break right! Go! Go! Go! Joe yelled and David twisted violently
aside. Again the Serpent slid past him, over-shooting, but this time
not losing contact and coming around to attack again, its seekers locked
to David's machine.
He's still on you, Joe was screaming now. Go for the sun, Davey. Try
for the sun, and the Mirage pointed its nose at the great blazing orb
that burned above the mountain ranges of dark cloud. The Serpent
followed him upwards, hunting him with the dreadful singlemindedness of
the automaton. He's on to you, Davey. Flip out now! Go! Go! Go!
David flicked the Mirage out of her vertical climb, and fell like a
stone, while the Serpent fastened its attention upon the vast infra-red
output from the sun and streaked on towards it, losing the Mirage.
You've lost it. Get out, Davey, get out! Joe pleaded with him, but for
the moment the Mirage was helpless.
In her desperate climb for the sun she had lost manoeuvring speed and
was wallowing clumsily now. It would be many seconds before she became
agile and lithe once more, and by then it would be too late, for Joe saw
the third missile become airborne and dart upwards on its feather of
flame and smoke aiming at David's Mirage.
Joe did not consciously realise what he was going to do until he had
winged over and commenced his dive under full power. He came down with
his mach meter indicating twice the speed of sound, and he levelled
across David's tail, cutting obliquely across his track under the nose
of the oncoming Serpent.
The Serpent saw him with its little cyclops radar eye, and it sensed the
heat of his exhausts, fresher, more tantalizing than David's, and it
accepted him as an alternative target and swung away after him, leaving
David to fly on unscathed.
David saw Joe's aircraft flash past his wing-tip at searing speed, and
but an instant behind him followed the Serpent. It took him only a
second to realize that Joe had deliberately pulled the missile off him,
had accepted the attack that must surely have destroyed David.
He watched with fascinated horror as Joe pulled out Of his dive, and
used his speed to climb into the sun.
The missile followed him smoothly, angling upwards, overhauling Joe's
Mirage with effortless ease. Joe was watching the missile in his
mirror, and at the last instant he flipped out of the climb, but this
time the Serpent was not deceived; as Joe dropped so it swivelled also,
and as earlier David had wallowed helplessly now Joe was in the same
predicament. He had taken his chance and it had not worked for him. The
missile found him, and in a brusque burst of flame, Joe and his Mirage
died together.
David flew on alone, his Mirage once more at manoeuvring speed and his
throat dry with horror and fear and grief. He found himself talking
aloud.
Joe, no, Joe. Oh God no! You shouldn't have done it. Ahead of him
through the gaps in the massive cloud bases he saw the Jordan.
It should be you that's going home, Joe, he said. It should be you,
Joe, and felt the hard ball of sorrow in his throat.
But the instinct of survival was still strong and David yawned and
glanced back to clear his blind spot, and he saw the last missile coming
in on him. It was just a small black speck far behind, with a little
frill of dark smoke around it, but it was watching him hungrily with its
wicked little eye.
As he saw it, he knew beyond doubt that this one was his, the one that
the fates had reserved for him. The attacks he had evaded so far had
worn his nerves and strained his judgement, he felt a sense of
fatalistic dismay as he watched the attacking missile gaining on him,
nevertheless he gathered his scattered reserves for one more supreme
effort.
His eyes narrowed to slits, the sweat sliding down his face and
drenching his mask, his left hand holding the throttle fully open and
his right gripping the control column with the strength of despair, he
judged his moment.
The missile was almost upon him and he screamed with all his might and
hurled the Mirage into the turn, but he had misjudged it by the smallest
part of a second.
As he turned away the missile slid past him and it was close enough to
pick up the shadow of the Mirage in the photo-electric eye of its fusing
device. The eye winked at him and the missile exploded.
The Mirage was in the critical attitude of its turn, and the cockpit
canopy was exposed entirely to the centre of the blast. It hit the
plane with a blow that sent it tumbling; like a running man tripping it
went over, and it lost life and flying capability.
The canopy was penetrated by flying steel. A piece struck David's
armoured seat with a clang and then it glanced off and struck his arm
above the elbow, snapping the bone cleanly so that the arm dropped
uselessly and hung into his lap.
An icy wind raged through the torn canopy as the Mirage hurled itself
through space with suicidal force, whipping its nose through the vicious
motions and flat plane of high-speed spin. David was thrown against his
straps, his ribs bruised and his skin smeared from his shoulders and the
broken arm flailing agonizingly.
He tried to hold himself upright in his seat as he reached up over his
head, caught hold of the handle of the ejector mechanism and hauled the
blind down over his face. He expected to have the charge explode
beneath his seat and hurl him free of the doomed Mirage, but nothing
happened.
Desperately he released the handle and strained forward to reach the
secondary firing mechanism under his seat between his feet. He wrenched
it and felt despair as there was no response. The seat was not working,
the blast had damaged some vital part of it. He had to fly the Mirage
out of it, with one arm and very little altitude left to him. He
fastened his right fist on to the moulded grip of the stick, and in the
crazy fall and flutter and whirl, David began to fight for control,
flying now by instinct alone, for he was badly hurt, and sky and
horizon, earth and cloud spun giddily across his vision.
He was aware that he was losing height rapidly, for every time the earth
swayed through his line of vision it was c ser an more menacing, t
doggedly he continued his attempts to roll against the direction of
spin.
The earth was very close before he felt the first hint of response, and
the ferocity of her gyrations abated slightly. Stick and rudder
together, he tried again and the Mirage showed herself willing at last.
Gently, with the touch of a lover, he wooed her and suddenly she came
out and he was flying straight and level, but she was hard hit. The