miles, it
would miss the _Polaris_ by several miles. And Loring wouldn't be able
to see anything because of the dust cloud.

"Course corrected," said Roger. "New course is one forty-two!"

"One forty-two!" repeated Loring.

Roger sat back and waited for the small space craft to blast off from
the ship. In his mind, he saw Loring setting the trigger on the bomb,
adjusting the controls, setting the automatic pilot, and then pressing
the acceleration button. Roger gripped the sides of the chart table and
stared at the radar scanner. A fast-moving blip was streaking across its
surface. Loring had started the jet boat.

His eyes showing his great fear, Roger watched the blip as it sped down
like a maddened hornet toward the _Polaris_ resting on its directional
fins in the green jungle. He could hear the hatch slam closed below as
Loring re-entered the ship, but he continued to watch the rapidly moving
blip.

Suddenly it disappeared, and Roger knew it had reached Tara. He slumped
back in his chair. His eyes were glassy, his ears deaf to the roar of
triumph from below as Loring and Mason, watching the flight of the jet
boat on the control deck teleceiver screen, saw it explode. Roger
couldn't move. He had fired a reactant bomb at Tom and Astro.

"By the craters of Luna," roared Connel, "we've been attacked!"

The four Earthmen, exploring a valley several miles north of the
_Polaris_, had been thrown to the ground when the bomb landed. Connel's
reaction was immediate and decisive.

"Get into the jet boat! All of you! We've got to get back to the
_Polaris_! If our ship is smashed, we'll spend the rest of our lives
fighting this jungle!"

In a matter of seconds the four spacemen were rocketing over the jungle
toward the _Polaris_. Presently they came to an enormous dust cloud that
had mushroomed out over the trees. It was so thick Tom found it
difficult to pilot the small craft.

"Any danger of radioactivity in this dust, sir?" asked Astro.

"Always that possibility, Astro," answered Connel. "We'll know soon
enough!" He flipped on a built-in Geiger counter on the dashboard of the
jet boat, and immediately the cabin was filled with a loud ticking that
warned of danger.

"The count is up to seven fifty, sir," said Astro. "Not enough to bother
you unless you're in it a long time."

"There's the _Polaris_, sir," yelled Tom. "She's still on her
directional fins! They missed her! She's O.K.!"

"By the blessed rings