ered, and
motioned with his free hand towards the charts.

One glance convinced me that he had not overestimated our danger. The
space to right and left, and above and below, was fairly peppered with
tiny pricks of greenish light that moved slowly across the milky faces
of the charts.

From the position of the ship, represented as a glowing red spark, and
measuring the distances roughly by means of the fine black lines
graved in both directions upon the surface of the chart, it was
evident to any understanding observer that disaster of a most terrible
kind was imminent.

* * * * *

Kincaide muttered into his microphone, and out of the tail of my eye I
could see his orders obeyed on the instant by the men in the operating
room. I could feel the peculiar, sickening surge that told of speed
being reduced, and the course being altered, but the cold, brutally
accurate charts before me assured me that no action we dared take
would save us from the meteorites.

"We're in for it, Mr. Kincaide. Continue to reduce speed as much as
possible, and keep bearing away, as at present. I believe we can avoid
the thickest portion of the field, but we shall have to take our
chances with the fringe."

"Yes, sir!" said Kincaide, without lifting his eyes from the chart.
His voice was calm and businesslike, now; with the responsibility on
my shoulders, as commander, he was the efficient, level-headed
thinking machine that had endeared him to me as both fellow-officer
and friend.

Leaving the charts to Kincaide, I sounded the general emergency
signal, calling every man and officer of the _Ertak's_ crew to his
post, and began giving orders through the microphone.

"Mr. Correy,"--Correy was my first officer--"please report at once to
the navigating room. Mr. Hendricks, make the rounds of all duty posts,
please, and give special attention to the disintegrator ray operators.
The ray generators are to be started at once, full speed." Hendricks,
I might say, was a junior officer, and a very good one, although
quick-tempered and excitable--failings of youth. He had only recently
shipped with us to replace Anderson Croy, who--but that has already
been recorded.[2]

[Footnote 2: "The Dark Side of Antri," in the January, 1931, issue of
Astounding Stories.]

These preparations made, I glanced at the twin charts again. The
peppering of tiny green lights, each of which represented a meteoritic
body, had definite