To remain defensive would end inevitably in our defeat. We all knew it now. The waiting game was Miko's--not ours. The success of our attack upon the distant isolated projectors, heartened us. Yet it was a desperate offensive upon which we decided! We prepared our little expedition at the larger of the exit ports. Miko's zed-ray was watching all our interior movements. We made a brave show of activity in our workshop with abandoned ore carts which were stored there. We got them out, started to recondition them. It seemed to fool Miko. His zed-ray clung to the workshop, watching us. And at the distant port we gathered the platforms, shields, helmets, bombs, and a few hand projectors. There were six platforms--three of us upon each. It left four people to remain indoors. I need not describe the emotion with which Snap and I listened to Venza and Anita pleading to be allowed to accompany us. They urged it upon Grantline, and we took no part. It was too important a decision. The treasure--the life or death of all these men--hung now upon the fate of our venture. Snap and I could not intrude our personal feelings. And the girls won. Both were undeniably more skillful at handling the midget platforms than any of us men. Two of the six platforms could be guided by them. That was a third of our little force! And of what use to go out and be defeated, leaving the girls here to meet death almost immediately afterward? We gathered at the port. A last minute change made Grantline order six of his men to remain to guard the buildings. The instruments, the Erentz system, all the appliances had to be attended. It left four platforms, each with three men--Grantline at the controls of one of them. And upon two of the others, Venza rode with Snap and I with Anita. We crouched in the shadows outside the port. So small an army, sallying out to bomb this enemy vessel or be killed in the attempt! Only sixteen of us. And thirty or so brigands well armed. I envisioned then this tiny Moon crater, the scene of this battle we were waging. Struggling humans, desperately trying to kill! Anita drew me down on the platform. "Ready, Gregg." The others were rising. We lifted, moved slowly out and away from the protective shadows of the building. XXXVI Grantline led us. We held about level. Five hundred feet beneath us the brigand ship lay, cradled on the rocks. When it was still a mile away from us I could see all its outline fairly clearly in the dimness. Its tiny hull windows were dark; but the blurred shape of the hull was visible, and above it the rounded cap of dome, with a dim radiance beneath it. We followed Grantline's platform. It was rising, drawing the others after it like a tail. I touched Anita where she lay beside me with her head half in the small hooded control bank. "Going too high." She nodded, but followed the line nevertheless. It was Grantline's command.