them up.
There might be many interesting and worthwhile pieces of
apparatus--particularly the UV beam's apparatus.

XI

Buck Kendall entered the Communications room rather furtively. He hated
the place. Cole was there, and McLaurin. Mac was looking tired and
drawn, Cole not so tired, but equally drawn. The signals were coming
through fairly well, because most of the disturbance was rising where
the signals rose, and all the disturbance, practically, was magnetic
rather than electric.

"Deenmor is sending, Buck," McLaurin said as he entered. "They're down
to the last fifty-five tons. They'll have more time now--a rest while
Phobos sinks. Mars Center has another 250 tons, but--it's just a
question of time. Have you any hope to offer?"

"No," said Kendall in a strained voice. "But, Mac, I don't think men
like those are afraid to die. It's dying uselessly they fear. Tell
'em--tell 'em they've defended not alone Mars, but all the system, in
holding up the Strangers on Mars. We here on Luna have been safer
because of them. And tell--Mac, tell them that in the meantime, while
they defended us, and gave us time to work, we have begun to see the
trail that will lead to victory."

"_You have!_" gasped McLaurin.

"No--but they will never know!" Kendall left hastily. He went and stood
moodily looking at the calculator machines--the calculator machines that
refused to give the answers he sought. No matter how he might modify
that original idea of his, no matter what different line of attack he
might try in solving the problems of Space and Matter, while he used the
system he _knew_ was right--the answer came down to that deadly,
hope-blasting expression that meant only "uncertain."

Even Buck was beginning to feel uncertain under that constant crushing
of hope. Uncertainty--uncertainty was eating into him, and destroying--

From the Communications room came the hum and drive of the great sender
flashing its message across seventy-two millions of miles of nothing.
"B-u-c-k K-e-n-d-a-l-l s-a-y-s h-e h-a-s l-e-a-r-n-e-d s-o-m-e-t-h-i-n-g
t-h-a-t w-i-l-l l-e-a-d t-o v-i-c-t-o-r-y w-h-i-l-e y-o-u h-e-l-d
b-a-c-k t-h-e--"

Kendall switched on a noisy, humming fan viciously. The too-intelligible
signals were drowned in its sound.

"And--tell them to--destroy the apparatus before the last of the power
is gone," McLaurin ordered softly.

The men in Deenmor station did slightly better than that. Gradually they
cut down