bunch. We'll blast them senseless before
they even know they're being attacked."

"If they don't succeed in manning the negatron," Usher pointed out.

"They don't know how to operate the negatron."

"Don't they? I might mention that they seem to know everything that
Sarkoff knew. And Hal certainly knew how that negatron operated. He
could take it apart and put it back together blind-folded."

"That's so," Nielson admitted. For a second unease showed on his lean
face. "Well, that only means we will have to lick them before they can
get that negatron into operation. One thing is certain--we have to have
the ship."

"You're right on that score," Usher grimly said.

Seconds ticked away into minutes. The group busy about the ship had no
intimation they were about to be attacked. They were careless to the
point of foolhardiness. No sentries had been posted, no effort had been
made to hide the vessel.

"What are they, really?" Hargraves thought. He wondered if they were
some strange form of water-dwelling life that lived in the lakes of this
planet. Perhaps that was what they were! Perhaps the transition from the
fish to the mammal had never been made on this planet, the fish-form
developing keen intelligence. Certainly there was intelligence on this
world. But it seemed to be an intelligence humans could not comprehend.

* * * * *

The signal for the attack sounded. Fierce shouts came from the other
side of the ship. The shouters were hidden, but there was no mistaking
the sounds. They came from human throats.

"Give 'em hell, boys!"

"Tear 'em to pieces!"

The harsh throbbing of vibration pistols split the quiet air.

"Steady!" Nielson said. "Wait until they go to see what's happening."

The group busy around the ship raised startled faces from their task.
They seemed to listen. Then they turned and ran around the bow of the
vessel.

"Come on!" cried Nielson, leaping from concealment.

There wasn't a person left in sight to oppose them. Fifty yards to
cross. Fifty yards to the ship! Fifty yards to a fighting chance for
life!

Under their racing feet the soft turf was soundless.

Twenty-five yards to go now. Ten yards. Ten feet to the open lock.

Thulon appeared in the lock. He looked in surprise at the charging men.

Except for the rough staff that he carried he was weaponless.

Nielson didn't give the command to fire, didn't need to give it. Every
vibration pistol ha