sted out of space. He had to do
something.

"Where's the communicator?" asked Tom.

"Over by the radar scanner." Sinclair eyed him suspiciously. "Remember,
Corbett, your life depends on this as much as mine. If you don't
convince them you're worth saving by letting me get away, you're a dead
pigeon!"

"You don't have to tell me," said Tom. "I know when I'm licked."

Sinclair took his position in the pilot's chair, facing the control
panel. For a brief moment his back was to Tom as he bent over to turn on
the generators. Tom took a deep breath and lurched across the deck. But
Sinclair turned and saw him coming, and jerked up the ray gun. He wasn't
able to get clear in time. Tom's fingers circled the barrel of the gun
as Sinclair fired. The barrel grew hot as Sinclair fired repeatedly.
Tom's fingers were beginning to blister under the intense heat, but he
held on. With his other hand he reached up for the rebel's throat.
Sinclair grabbed his wrist and, locked together, they rolled around on
the deck.

[Illustration: _Sinclair wasn't able to get clear in time_]

Sinclair continued to fire the ray gun and Tom's fingers were burning
with pain from the heat. Suddenly the cadet let go the gun, spun around,
and jerked Sinclair off balance. He swung his free hand as hard as he
could into the rebel's stomach. Sinclair doubled over and staggered
back, dropping the gun. Tom was on top of him like a shot, pounding
straight, jolting rights and lefts to the man's head and stomach. But
Sinclair was tough. He twisted around, and quick as a cat, jumped to his
feet. Then, stepping in, he rapped a solid right to Tom's jaw. The cadet
reeled back, nearly falling to the deck. Sinclair was in on top of him
in a flash, pounding his head and body with vicious smashing blows.

Tom fell to the floor under the savagery of the rebel leader's attack.
Sinclair lifted his foot to kick the cadet as Tom's fingers tightened
around the barrel of the discarded ray gun. He brought it up sharply
against the planter's shin and he staggered back in pain. Tom took
careful aim. He fired the gun. Nothing happened. The gun was empty.

Sinclair rushed the cadet again, but Tom stepped aside and swung the
heavy gun with all his might. The metal smashed against Sinclair's head
and he sank to the deck, out cold.

The last rebel of Venus had been defeated.

* * * * *

"We found Roger trying to keep the slaves away from the guar