.

Then the bolt was gone. I found us soaring upward, horribly tilted. I
shifted over.

"Anita! Anita, dear!"

"Yes. Gregg. All right."

* * * * *

The melee went on. The brigand ship and all its vicinity was enveloped
in darkness-mist now--a turgid sable curtain, made more dense by the
dissipating heavy fumes of our exploding bombs which settled low over
the ship and the rocks nearby. The search-light from our camp strove
futilely to penetrate the cloud.

Our platforms were separated. One went by high over us; I saw another
dart close beneath my shield.

"God, Anita!"

"Too close! I did not mean that--I didn't see it."

Almost a collision.

"Oh, Gregg, haven't we broken the ship's dome yet?"

It seemed not. I had dropped nearly all my bombs. This could not go on
much longer. Had it been only five minutes? Only that? Reason told me
so, yet it seemed an eternity of horror.

Another swoop. My last bomb. Anita had brought us into position to
fling it. But I could not. A bolt stabbed up from the gloom and
caught us. We huddled, pulling the shields up and over us.

Blurred darkness again. Too much to the side now. I had to wait while
Anita swung us back. Then we seemed too high.

We swooped. But not too low! Down in the darkness-mist we would
immediately have lost direction, and crashed.

I waited with my last bomb. The other platforms were occasionally
dropping them: I had been too hasty, too prodigal.

Had we broken the ship's dome with a direct hit? It seemed not.

* * * * *

The brigands were occasionally sending up catapulted light-flares.
They came from positions on the rocks outside the ship. They mounted
in lazy curves and burst over us. The concealing darkness, broken only
by the flares of our explosions, enveloped the enemy. Our camp
search-light was still struggling with it. But overhead, where the few
little platforms were circling and swooping, the flares gave an almost
continuous glare. It was dazzling, blinding. Even through the smoked
pane which I adjusted to my visor I could not stand it.

But there were thoughts of comparative dimness. In a patch where the
Earthlight struck through the darkness of the rocks, I saw another of
our fallen platforms! Snap and Venza! Dear God....

It was not they, but three figures of our men. One was dead. Two had
survived the fall. They stood up, staggering. And in that instant,
before the