nto her stock rooms.

When the men arrived from the hilltop, the work was practically done,
and Wade stepped up to Morey, busily checking off a list of required
items.

"Everything you ordered came through?" he asked.

"Yes--thanks to the pull of a two-billion dollar private fortune. Who
says credit-units don't have their value? This expedition never would
have gotten through, if it hadn't been for that.

"But we have the main space distortion power bank, and the new auxiliary
coils full. Ten tons of lead aboard for fuel. There's one thing we are
afraid of. If the enemy have a system of tubes that is able to handle
more power than our last tube--we're sunk. These brilliant people that
suggest using more tubes to a ray-power bank forget the last tube has to
handle the entire output of all the others, and modulate it correctly.
If the enemy has a better tube--it will be too bad for us." Morey was
frankly worried.

"My end is all set, Morey. How soon will you be ready?" Arcot asked.

"'Bout ten-fifteen minutes." Morey lit a cigarette and watched as the
last of the stuff was carried aboard.

At last they were ready. The _Ancient Mariner_, originally built for
intergalactic exploration, was kept in working condition. New apparatus
had been incorporated in it, as their research had led to improvements,
and it was constantly in condition, ready for a trip. Many exploration
trips to the nearer stars had already been made.

The ship was backed out from the hangar now, and rested on the great
smooth landing field, its tremendous quarter million ton mass of lux and
relux sinking a great, smooth depression in the turf of the field. They
were waiting now for the arrival of the Ortolian ship. Zezdon Afthen
assured them it would be there in a few minutes.

High in the sky, came the whining whistle of an approaching ship, coming
at terrific velocity. It came nearer the field, darting toward the
ground at an unheard of speed, flashing down at a speed of well over
three thousand miles an hour, and, only in the last fifty feet slowed
with a sickening deceleration. Even so it landed with a crash of fully
two hundred miles of speed. Arcot gasped at the terrible landing the
pilot had made, fully expecting to see the great hull dent somewhat,
even though made of solid relux. And certainly the jar would kill every
man on board. Yet the hull did not seem harmed by the crash, and even
the ground under the ship was but slightly disturbe