other swoop. My last bomb. Anita had brought us into position to
fling it. But I could not. A bolt stabbed up from the gloom and caught
us. We huddled, pulling the shields up and over us.

Blurred darkness again. Too much to the side now. I had to wait while
Anita swung us back. Then we seemed too high.

I waited with my last bomb. The other platforms were occasionally
dropping them: I had been too hasty, too prodigal.

Had we broken the ship's dome with a direct hit? It seemed not.

The brigands were sending up catapulted light flares. They came from
positions on the rocks outside the ship. They mounted in lazy curves
and burst over us. The concealing darkness, broken only by the flares
of explosions, enveloped the enemy. Our camp searchlight was still
struggling with it. But overhead, where the few little platforms were
circling and swooping, the flares gave an almost continuous glare. It
was dazzling, blinding. Even through the smoked pane which I adjusted
to my visor I could not stand it.

But these were thoughts of comparative dimness. In a patch where the
Earthlight struck through the darkness of the rocks, I saw another of
our fallen platforms! Snap and Venza?

It was not they, but three figures of our men. One was dead. Two had
survived the fall. They stood up, staggering. And in that instant,
before the turgid black curtain closed over them, I saw two brigands
come rushing. Their hand projectors stabbed at close range. Our men
crumpled and fell....

We were in position again. I flung my last missile, watched its light
as it dropped. On the dome roof two of Miko's men were crouching. My
bomb was truly aimed--perhaps one of the few in all our bombardment
which landed directly on the dome roof. But the waiting marksmen fired
at it with short range heat projectors and exploded it harmlessly
while it was still above them.

We swung up and away. I saw, high above us, Grantline's platform,
recognizing its red signal light. There seemed a lull. The enemy fire
had died down to only a very occasional bolt. In the confusion of my
whirling impressions, I wondered if Miko were in distress. Not that!
We had not hit his ship; perhaps we had done little damage indeed! It
was we who were in distress. Two of our platforms had fallen--two out
of six. Or more, of which I did not know.

I saw one rising off to the side of us. Grantline was over us. Well,
we were at least three. And then I saw the fourth.

"Grantline is