"Four blasts. But just the one projector. Their strongest." He grinned. He wore no Erentz suit as yet. He stood in torn grimy work-trousers and a bedraggled shirt, with the inevitable red eyeshade holding back his unruly hair. Around his waist was the weighted belt and there were weights on his shoes for gravity stability. "Didn't hurt us much." "No." "When I get the tube-panels in this thing I'll be finished. It'll take another half-hour. I'll join you. Where are you stationed?" * * * * * I shrugged. "I was at a front window with Johnny. Nothing to do as yet." Snap went back to his work. "Well, the longer they delay, the better for us. If only your signal got through, Gregg! We'll have a rescue ship here in a few hours more." Ah, that "if!" I turned away. "Can't help you, Snap?" "No. Take those shields," he added to one of the men. "Take them where?" "To Grantline. The front admission porte, or the back. He'll tell you which." The shields were wheeled away on a little cart. I followed it. Grantline sent it to the back exit. "No other move from them yet, Johnny?" "No. All quiet." "Snap's almost finished." The brigands presently made another play. A giant heat-ray beam came across the valley. It clung to our front wall for nearly a minute. Grantline got the reports from the instrument room. He laughed. "That helped rather than hurt us. Heated the outer wall. Frank took advantage of it and eased up the motors." We wondered if Miko knew that. Doubtless he did, for another interval passed and the heat-ray was not used again. * * * * * Then came a zed-ray. I stood at the window, watching it, faint sheen of beam in the dimness. It crept with sinister deliberation along our front building-wall, clung momentarily to our shielded windows and pried with its revealing glow into Snap's workshop. "Looking us over," Grantline commented. "I hope they like what they see." I knew he did not feel the bravado that was in his tone. We had nothing but small hand weapons: heat-rays, electronic projectors, and bullet projectors. All for very short-range fighting. If Miko had not known that before, he could at least make a good guess at it after the careful zed-ray inspection. With his ship down there two miles away, we were powerless to reach him. It seemed that Miko was now testing the use of all his mechanisms. A light-flare went up from the dome-peak of the ship. It rose in a slow arc over the valley, and burst. For a few seconds the two-mile circle of crags was brilliantly illumined. I stared, but I had to shield my eyes against the dazzling actinic glare, and I could see nothing. Was Miko making a zed-ray photograph of our interiors? We had no way of knowing.