d-to-hand conflict. The giant electronic projector
would eventually be used against Grantline; it was the brigands' most
powerful weapon. Its controls were here, by Heaven, I would smash
them? That at least I could do!

I jumped for the window. Miko's signals had stopped, but I caught a
glimpse of his distant moving curve lights.

A flash came up at me, as in the window I became visible to the
brigands on the ship's deck. It was a small hand projector, hastily
fired, for it went wide of the window. It was followed by a rain of
small beams, but I was warned and dropped my head beneath the sill.
The rays flashed dangerously upward through the oval opening, hissed
against our vaulted roof. The air snapped and tingled with a shower
of blue-red sparks, and the acrid odor of the released gases settled
down upon us.

The trajectory controls of the projector were beside me. I seized
them, ripped and tore at them. There was a roar down on the deck. The
projector had exploded. A man's agonizing scream split the confusion
of sounds.

It silenced the brigands on the deck. Under our floor grid, those on
the ladder had been pounding at the trap door. They stopped, evidently
to see what had happened. The bombardment of our windows stopped
momentarily.

I cautiously peered out the window again. In the wreck of the
projector, three men were lying. One of them was screaming horribly.
The dome side was damaged. Potan and other men were frantically
investigating to see if the ship's air was hissing out.

A triumph swept over me. They had not found me so meek and inoffensive
as they might have thought!

Anita clutched me. She still had not donned her helmet.

"Put on your helmet!"

"But Gregg--"

"Put it on!"

"I.... I don't want to put it on until you put yours on."

"I've smashed the projector! We've stopped them coming up for a
while."

But they were still on the ladder under our floor. They heard our
voices: they began thumping again. Then pounding. They seemed now to
have heavy implements. They rammed against the trap.

The floor seemed holding. The square of metal grid trembled, yielded a
little. But it was good for a few minutes longer.

I called down, "The first one who comes through will be shot!" My
words mingled with their oaths. There was a moment's pause, then the
ramming went on. The dying man on the deck was still screaming.

I whispered, "I'll try an Earth signal."

She nodded. Pale, tense, but calm.