He was testing his short-range projectors now. With my eyes again accustomed to the normal Earthlight in the valley, I could see the stabs of little electronic beams, the Martian paralyzing-rays and heat-beams. They darted out like flashing swords from the rocks near the ship. Then the whole ship and the crater-wall behind it seemed to shift sidewise as a Benson curve-light spread its glow about the ship, with a projector curve-beam coming up and touching the window through which I was peering. "Haljan, come look at these damn girls! Commander--shall I stop them? They'll kill themselves, or kill us--or smash something!" * * * * * We followed the man into the building's broad central corridor. Anita and Venza were riding a midget flying platform! Anita, in her boyish black garb; Venza with a flowing white Venus-robe. They lay on the tiny, six-foot oblong of metal, one manipulating its side shields, the other at the controls. As we arrived, the platform came sliding down the narrow confines of the corridor, lurching, barely missing a door-grid projection. Up to skim the low vaulted ceiling, then down to the floor. It sailed past our heads, rising over us as we ducked. Anita waved her hand. Grantline gasped, "By the infernal!" I shouted, "Anita, stop!" But they only waved at us, skimming down the length of the corridor, seeming to avoid a smash a dozen times by the smallest margin of chance, stopping miraculously at the further end, hanging poised in mid-air, wheeling, coming back, undulating up and down. Grantline clung to me. "By the gods of the airways!" In spite of my astonished horror I could not but share Grantline's obvious admiration. Three of four other men were watching. The girls were amazingly skillful, no doubt of that. There was not a man among us who could have handled that gravity-platform indoors, not one who would have had the brash temerity to try it. The platform landed with the grace of a humming bird at our feet, the girls dexterously balancing so that it came to rest swiftly, without the least bump. I confronted them. "Anita, what are you doing?" She stood up, flushed and smiling. "Practising." Imperturbable girls! The product of their age. Oblivious to the brigand attack, they were in here practising! "What for?" I demanded. Venza's roguish eyes twinkled at me. Her hands went to her slim hips with a gesture of defiance. She asked, "Are you speaking for yourself or the commander?" * * * * * I ignored her. "What for?" I reiterated. "Because we're good at it," Anita retorted. "Better than any of you men. If you should need us...." "We don't. We won't." I said shortly. "But if you should...." Venza put in, "If Snap and I hadn't come for you, you wouldn't be here, Gregg Haljan. I didn't notice you were so horrified to see me holding that shield up over you!" It silenced me. She added, "Commander, let us alone. We won't smash anything."