"It's an emergency, Sir," McPartland urged. "It's war. You're the supreme military commander. You have the right to act on your own initiative whenever the Congress of Specialists cannot function. They can't function now! You can't let them be stampeded into surrender. There must be no surrender!" For a long minute, there was silence in the blackness about him. "I'll do it, Jon!" Denton said at last. "Captain Wendall!" A man answered somewhere beyond him. Denton gave swift orders, and the other moved away. "My men will be at the Congress in five minutes, Jon," the Marshal said. "Now, just how do you propose to fight this thing? We have to be right, now, you know. We must win--or be executed as traitors!" "I want the _Avenger_ loaded with space torpedoes, Sir. We have hundreds in the arsenal," McPartland explained. "I believe the logical place for the ether dissipating machinery would be on the far side of the moon. The outlaws and their Specialist friends could have worked there without fear of discovery." Denton was already giving orders to another officer. "We'll have your ship loaded in minutes, Captain," he said. "You're right about the moon--we don't even patrol that side. You intend to--" "To blast every square inch of its surface," Jon said fiercely, "from space. Once we destroy the machinery, and lift the blackness, we'll make short work of the plotters. The _Avenger_ could do the job alone!" "Good!" said the Marshal. "I hope your theory is sound. We haven't much time to experiment." "No," said Almira suddenly. "Millions of people would die in rioting, accidents, from starvation--if light--if the ether isn't restored! We'd have to surrender before that happened." "What would those millions gain," McPartland demanded savagely, "better than death--under the rule of outlaws and traitors?" * * * * * Almira pulled away from him. Her fingers slipped from his. "It is modern," she said coolly, "to preserve life, not throw it away in hopeless resistance! If you fail, we must surrender." "I'm afraid she's right, Jon," Marshal Denton's voice added quietly. Jon's angry retort stopped on his tongue, as a strong hand clamped his arm. McTavish whispered, somehow finding his Captain's ear: "We'll still have the _Avenger_, Sir, to fight in--let them surrender who will." McPartland fought back his rage. The Engineer was right. It was no time to debate. It was time to start the fight. "I'll instruct my men, Marshal Denton," he said, "about the space torpedoes. The things haven't been used in battle for decades, and they'll be tricky to handle." "We've laid a cable line directly to the ship, Sir," an invisible officer beside him said respectfully. "You can follow it with your feet." "Thank you." Jon made his way back, McTavish at his heels, and gave necessary orders to Reynolds at the port. McTavish went inside to superintend the loading, and Jon followed the cable to the Marshal's office.