nap was drifting down with the girls. They were near us. His arm
waved at me with a gesture. And then came the muffled tone of his
voice: "Shall we drop down, Gregg?"

"Yes, but cautiously. Have your gun ready."

Molo protested, "I would like to take Meka with us, and a few of my
crew. You will have trouble handling the _Star-Streak_, just us three
men."

"We'll take our chances."

We dropped swiftly down upon the dark and vacant platform. The gray
hull of the _Star-Streak_ loomed beside us, her dome arched still
higher. An inclined catwalk went up to her opened deck-port.

"I'll go first," I said softly to Snap. "Come quickly after me. Watch
out: there might be someone on board."

Venza still clung to her weapon. Mine was in my hand as I lifted Molo.
And, ignoring the incline, bounded the thirty feet for the deck-port.
I landed safely, and stood Molo upon his feet. "Don't you move," I
admonished him sternly.

He stood docilely against the cabin wall of the superstructure. No one
here. We had thought there might easily be one or two workers on
board.

Snap and the girls came sailing, one after the other, and landed on
the deck beside me. We stood silent, alert. No one appeared from
within the cabin or from the lengths of the deck. Venza was watching
Molo with her weapon upon him. Snap and I had planned this boarding:
Anita and Venza to stay here and guard Molo while we searched the
ship, and inspected the controls. We started for the cabin door oval.

"Gregg!"

It was all the warning Snap could give. I was within the dim cabin,
but he, behind me, was still on the deck. I whirled to see a dozen
dark forms leaping from the roof of the cabin superstructure. Snap was
all but buried by them. These were not men of Wandl, but Molo's pirate
crew, Martians, Earthmen and Venusians. Snap's ray-gun spat as he went
down; one of the men dropped away. I saw Venza turn with startled
horror, as the huge figure of Meka leaped down upon her and Anita from
the roof.

For an instant, weapon in hand, I paused in the doorway. I could not
fire into the turmoil of that struggling group, so instead plunged
into it, striking with my fists.

Molo was shouting, "Do not kill them! I was ordered not to kill them!"

These men, so different from the insect-like workers and the brains of
Wandl, were solid in my grip; but we were all so weightless! I felled
one, but others gripped me, pounded me. A struggling mass of bodies,
arms and le