n the bed below--a silent figure and
unmoving, as one for whom time has ceased. But the surgeons of the
Allied Hospital at Vienna are clever.

10:41--10:42--The bandaged figure stirred uneasily on a snow-white
bed....

* * * * *

A nurse was beside him in an instant. Was her patient about to recover
consciousness? She examined the bandages that covered a ragged wound in
his side, where all seemed satisfactory. To all appearances the man who
had moved was unconscious still; the nurse could not know of the thought
impressions, blurred at first, then gradually clearing, that were
flashing through his mind.

Flashing; yet, to the man who struggled to comprehend them, they passed
laggingly in review: one picture followed another with exasperating
slowness....

Where was he? What had happened? He was hardly conscious of his own
identity....

There was a ship ... he held the controls ... they were flying low....
One hand reached fumblingly beneath the soft coverlet to search for a
triple star that should be upon his jacket. A triple star: the insignia
of a Master Pilot of the World!--and with the movement there came
clearly a realization of himself.

Chet Bullard, Master Pilot; he was Chet Bullard ... and a wall of water
was sweeping under him from the ocean to wipe out the great Harkness
Terminal buildings.... It was Harkness--Walt Harkness--from whom he had
snatched the controls.... To fly to the Dark Moon, of course--

What nonsense was that?... No, it was true: the Dark Moon had raised the
devil with things on Earth.... How slowly the thoughts came! Why
couldn't he remember?...

Dark Moon!--and they were flying through space.... They had conquered
space; they were landing on the Dark Moon that was brilliantly alight.
Walt Harkness had set the ship down beautifully--

* * * * *

Then, crowding upon one another in breath-taking haste, came clear
recollection of past adventures:

They were upon the Dark Moon--and there was the girl, Diane. They must
save Diane. Harkness had gone for the ship. A savage, half-human shape
was raising a hairy arm to drive a spear toward Diane, and he, Chet, was
leaping before her. He felt again the lancet-pain of that blade....

And now he was dying--yes, he remembered it now--dying in the night on a
great, sweeping surface of frozen lava.... It was only a moment before
that he had opened his eyes to see Harkness' stra