dn't choose it.
Damn them, if they're going to attack, I wish they would get on with
it!"

Over the huge ship the tiny plane circled. Every man on the Idaho knew
the situation was nasty. They were being watched. There was nothing they
could do to stop it. The shadowing plane was above anti-aircraft fire.
The warship could not hide from it. There was no protecting destroyer to
lay a friendly smoke screen to shield them from the eyes in the sky.
Meanwhile, somewhere around them a hidden enemy might be marshalling
forces to destroy them.

"Have you tried to contact them?" Craig asked.

"I tried to reach them by radio all last night," Higgins answered.
"There was no answer. The radio operators say there are no signals in
the air. This, plus the fact that they have not attempted to answer our
signals, forces me to the conclusion that they have not discovered
radio. Of course they may use wave bands beyond the range of out
receivers--Hello! What's that?"

From somewhere near them a shout had sounded.

Leaning over the edge of the bridge, Craig saw a sailor on the lower
deck. The man was also leaning over pointing down toward the sea. He
shouted again and turned upward toward the bridge. His face was white
with terror.

"What is it?" Captain Higgins demanded.

"It's--It's that silver stuff on the surface, sir," the sailor answered.
"It's--it's eating the sides of the ship sir. It's eating the ship."

The Idaho was still in the area of the bright substance that floated on
the surface of the sea. Captain Higgins raced from the bridge down to
the main deck. Craig followed him. By the time they reached the spot
where the sailor was standing several other officers had gathered. They
were all staring down at the sea.

Craig leaned over the rail, looked down. Horror tightened an iron band
around his heart.

* * * * *

At the waterline, a great gash had been eaten into the steel hull of the
Idaho. The plates of the ship were the best grade of chrome steel,
heat-treated and hardened. They were designed to withstand the battering
of sixteen-inch shells. The steel in them was the toughest metal that
had ever come out of Pittsburgh.

Where the oily, shiny substance touched it, the steel was crumbling
away.

"Acid!" Craig heard an officer gasp. "That's what the silver stuff is.
Acid! They sprayed it on the sea."

"They plotted our course and set a booby-trap for us."

"That can't be an ac