tside the porte. So small an army,
sallying out to bomb this enemy vessel or be killed in the attempt!
Only sixteen of us. And thirty or so brigands.

I envisaged then this tiny Moon-crater, the scene of this battle we
were waging. Struggling humans, desperately trying to kill. Alone here
on this globe. Around us, the wide reaches of Lunar desolation. In all
this world, every human being was gathered here, struggling to kill!

Anita drew me down to the platform. "Ready, Gregg."

The others were rising. We lifted, moved slowly out and away from the
protective shadows of the building.

In a tiny queue the six little platforms sailed out over the valley
toward the brigand ship.

CHAPTER XXXVI

_The Battle in the Crater_

Grantline led us. We held about level. Five hundred feet beneath us
the brigand ship lay, cradled on the rocks. When it was still a mile
away from us I could see all its outline fairly clearly in the
dimness. Its tiny hull-windows were now dark; but the blurred shape of
the hull was visible and above it the rounded cap of dome, with a dim
radiance beneath it.

We followed Grantline's platform. It was rising, drawing the others
after it like a tail. I touched Anita where she lay beside me with her
head half in the small hooded control-bank.

"Going too high."

She nodded, but followed the line nevertheless. It was Grantline's
command.

I lay crouched, holding the inner tips of the flexible side-shields.
The bottom of the platform was covered with the insulated fabric.
There were two side-shields. They extended upward some two feet,
flexible so that I could hold them out to see over them, or draw them
up and in to cover us.

They afforded a measure of protection against the hostile rays, though
just how much we were not sure. With the platform level, a bolt from
beneath could not harm us unless it continued for a considerable time.
But the platform, except upon direct flight, was seldom level, for it
was a frail, unstable little vehicle! To handle it was more than a
question of the controls. We balanced, and helped to guide it, with
the movement of our bodies--shifting our weight sidewise, or back, or
forward to make it dip as the controls altered the gravity-pull in its
tiny plate-sections.

Like a bird, wheeling, soaring, swooping. To me, it was a precarious
business.

* * * * *

But now we were in straight flight diagonally upward. The outline of
the