rim. The vessel came upon a level keel, hull down. Slowly circling,
looking for Miko's signal, no doubt, or for possible lights from
Grantline's camp. They might also be picking a landing place.

We saw it soon as a cylindrical, cigarlike shape, rather smaller than
the _Planetara_, but similar of design. It bore lights now. The ports
of its hull were tiny rows of illumination, and the glow of light
under its rounding upper dome was faintly visible.

A bandit ship, no doubt of that. Its identification keel plate was
empty of official pass code lights. These brigands had not attempted
to secure official sailing lights when leaving Ferrok-Shahn. It was
unmistakably an outlaw ship. And here upon the deserted Moon there was
no need for secrecy. Its lights were openly displayed, that Miko might
see it and join it.

It went slowly past us, only a few thousand feet higher than our
level. We could see the whole outline of its pointed cylinder hull,
with the rounded dome on top. And under the dome was its open deck
with a little cabin superstructure in the center.

I thought for a moment that by some unfortunate chance it might land
quite near us. But it went past. And then I saw that it was heading
for a level, plateaulike surface a few miles further on. It dropped,
cautiously floating down.

There was still no sign of Miko. But I realized that haste was
necessary. We must be the first to join the brigand ship.

I lifted Anita to her feet. "I don't think we should signal from
here."

"No. Miko might see it."

We could not tell where he was. Down on the plains, perhaps? Or up
here, somewhere in these miles of towering rocks?

"Are you ready, Anita?"

"Yes, Gregg."

I stared through the visors at her white solemn face.

"Yes, I'm ready," she repeated.

Her hand pressure seemed to me suddenly like a farewell. We were
plunging rashly into what was destined to mean our death? Was this a
farewell?

An instinct told me not to do this thing. Why, in a few hours I could
have Anita back to the comparative safety of the Grantline camp. The
exit ports would doubtless be repaired by now. I could get her inside.

She had bounded away from me, leaped down some thirty feet into the
broken gully, to cross it and then up on the other side. I stood for
an instant watching her fantastic shape, with the great rounded,
goggled, trunked helmet and the lump on her shoulders which held the
little Erentz motors. Then I hurried after h