Her mind clung to that as the most important thing. But not so myself. To me there was only the realization that Anita was caught out here, almost at the mercy of Miko's ray. Grantline's men could not get out to help us, nor could I get Anita into the camp. She added, "Where do you suppose the ship is?" "Twenty or thirty thousand miles up, probably." The stars and the Earth were visible over us. Somewhere up there, disclosed by Grantline's instruments but not yet discernible to the naked eye, Miko's reinforcements were hovering. We lay for a moment in silence. It was horribly nerve straining. Miko could be creeping up on us. Would he dare chance my sudden fire? Creeping--or would he make a swift, unexpected rush? The feeling that he was upon us abruptly swept me. I jumped to my feet, against Anita's effort to hold me. Where was he now? Was my imagination playing me tricks?... I sank back. "That ship should be here in a few hours." I told her what Grantline's signal had suggested; the ship was hovering overhead. It must be fairly close; for Grantline's telescope had revealed its identity as an outlaw flyer, unmarked by any of the standard code identification lights. It was doubtless too far away as yet to have located the whereabouts of Grantline's camp. The Martian brigands knew that we were in the vicinity of Archimedes, but no more than that. Searching this glowing Moon surface, our tiny local semaphore beams would certainly pass unnoticed. But as the brigand ship approached now--dropping close to Archimedes as it probably would--our danger was that Miko and his men would then signal it, join it, and reveal the camp's location. And the brigand attack would be upon us! I told this now to Anita. "The signal from Grantline said, '_Unless you can stop them._'" It was an appeal to me. But how could I stop them? What could I do, alone out here with Anita, to cope with this enemy? Anita made no comment. I added, "That ship will land near Archimedes, within an hour or two. If Grantline can repair the ports, and I can get you inside...." Again she made no comment. Then suddenly she gripped me. "Gregg, look there!" Out through the gully break in our bowl the figure of Miko showed! He was running. But not at us. Circling the summit, leaping to keep himself behind the upstanding crags. He passed the head of the staircase; he did not descend it, but headed off along the summit of the crater rim. I stood up to watch him. "Where's he going!" I let Anita stand up beside me, cautiously at first, for it occurred to me it might be a ruse to cover some other of Miko's men who might be lurking near. But the summit seemed clear. The figure of Miko was a thousand feet away now. We could see the tiny blob of it bobbing over the rocks. Then it plunged down--not into the crater valley, but out toward the open Moon surface.