I cautiously peered out the window again. In the wreck of the projector, three men were lying. One of them was screaming horribly. The dome side was damaged. Potan and other men were frantically investigating to see if the ship's air was hissing out. A triumph swept over me. They had not found me so meek and inoffensive as they might have thought! Anita clutched me. She still had not donned her helmet. "Put on your helmet!" "But Gregg--" "Put it on!" "I.... I don't want to put it on until you put yours on." "I've smashed the projector! We've stopped them coming up for a while." But they were still on the ladder under our floor. They heard our voices: they began thumping again. Then pounding. They seemed now to have heavy implements. They rammed against the trap. The floor seemed holding. The square of metal grid trembled, yielded a little. But it was good for a few minutes longer. I called down, "The first one who comes through will be shot!" My words mingled with their oaths. There was a moment's pause, then the ramming went on. The dying man on the deck was still screaming. I whispered, "I'll try an Earth signal." She nodded. Pale, tense, but calm. "Yes, Gregg. And I was thinking--" "It won't take a minute. Have your helmet ready." "I was thinking--" She hurried across the room. I swung on the Botz signaling apparatus. It was connected. Within a moment I had it humming. The fluorescent tubes lighted with their lurid glare; they painted purple the body of the giant duty man who lay sprawled at my feet. I drew on all the ship's power. The tube lights in the room quivered and went dim. I would have to hurry. Potan could shut this off from the main hull control room. I could see, through the room's upper trap, the primary sending mirror mounted in the peak of the dome. It was quivering, radiant with its light energy. I sent the flash. The flattened past full Earth was up there. I knew that the Western Hemisphere faced the Moon at this hour. I flashed in English, with the open Universal Earth code: _Help. Grantline._ And again: _Help. Archimedes region near Apennines. Attacked by brigands._ _Send help at once. Grantline._ If only it would be received! I flung off the current. Anita stood watching me intently. "Gregg, look!" I saw that she had taken some of the glass globe-bombs which lay by the foot of the ascending ladder. "Gregg, I threw some of them." At the window we gazed down. The globes she flung had shattered on the deck. They were darkness bombs. Through the blackness of the deck, the shouts of the brigands came up. They were stumbling about. But the ramming of our trap went on, and I saw that it was beginning to yield. "We've got to go, Anita!" From out of the darkness which hung like a shroud over the deck an occasional flash came up, unaimed, wide of our windows. But the darkness was dissipating. I could see now the dim glow of the deck lights, blurred as through a heavy fog. I dropped another of the bombs.