er.

It did not take us long--two or three miles of circling along the
giant wall. The ship lay only a few hundred feet above our level.

We stood at last on a buttelike pinnacle. The lights of the ship were
close over us. And there were moving lights up there, tiny moving
spots on the adjacent rocks. The brigands had come out, prowling about
to investigate their location.

No signal yet from Miko. But it might come at any moment.

"I'll flash now," I whispered.

"Yes."

The brigands had probably not yet seen us. I took the lamp from my
helmet. My hand was trembling. Suppose my signal were answered by a
shot? A flash from some giant projector mounted on the ship?

Anita crouched behind a rock, as she had promised. I stood with my
torch and flung its switch. My puny light beam shot up. I waved it,
touched the ship with its faint glowing circle of illumination.

They saw me. There was a sudden movement among the lights up there.

I semaphored:

_I am from Miko. Do not fire._

I used open universal code. In Martian first, and then in English.

There was no answer, but no attack. I tried again.

_This is Haljan, one of the_ Planetara. _George Prince's sister is
with me. There has been disaster to Miko._

A small light beam came down from the brink of the overhead cliff
beside the ship.

_Continue._

I went steadily on: _Disaster--the_ Planetara _is wrecked. All killed
but me and Prince's sister. We want to join you._

I flashed off my light. The answer came:

_Where is the Grantline Camp?_

_Near here. The Mare Imbrium._

As though to answer my lie, from down on the Earthlit plains, some ten
miles or so from the crater base, a tiny signal light shot up. Anita
saw it and gripped me.

"There is Miko's light!"

It spelled in Martian, _Come down. Land Mare Imbrium._

Miko had seen the signaling up here and had joined it! He repeated,
_Land Mare Imbrium._

I flashed a protest up to the ship: _Beware. That is Grantline!
Trickery._

From the ship the summons came, _Come up._

We had won this first encounter! Miko must have realized his
disadvantage. His distant light went out.

"Come, Anita."

There was no retreat now. But again I seemed to feel in the pressure
of her hand that vague farewell. Her voice whispered, "We must do our
best, act our best to be convincing."

In the white glow of a searchbeam we climbed the crags, reached the
broad upper ledge. Helmeted figures rushed at us, searche