"It was his turn! He crept into the casing of the torpedo cycle, and it was smaller even than he had thought. The machine fitted him like a glove. Effortlessly, under his direction, it glided forward, too smoothly, too winllingly, into that dazzle of searchlights, into that mailstrom of machines. One contact, he thought, one contact with an enemy meant death; and his plan of breaking through was as vague as his understanding of how a seven-dimensional maneuver actually worked."