"Tell me," he said, whirling abruptly, "do you know of a Sirian leader called Drum Faggard?" Ga-Marr's eyes gleamed. "Aye. The crudest and most bloodthirsty of them all. It was he who led the attack against my people in which my brother was killed. It was he who directed the sacking of our city of Calthedra. My one hope is that some day we may meet on common ground." * * * * * The next day Standish revealed to the newcomer his plan to build a smaller space ship out of the wreckage of the old. "Your own craft is useless without power for its rocket motors," he told Ga-Marr. "Yet it contains parts that will be valuable. Have I your consent to dismantle it?" The stranger nodded. "To work then. And remember, if we succeed, we may yet be able to strike at Drum Faggard." It was the desire for revenge that spurred them on. Quickly they set about dismantling Ga-Marr's ship. Rivets were cut, bolts unscrewed, plates ripped off. Using the dismantled parts of the space liner's atomic motors, Standish fashioned a smaller but powerful engine. Gradually out of the mass a crude craft began to take form. But they were working on counted time. Days were growing shorter; the nights, longer. Icy winds began to sweep across the ravine, bringing sleet and flurries of snow. With the change in seasons came new dangers. Strange animal life, following the perverse migrational instinct of the planet, swept out of the jungle. First came the lizard-birds, similar to, but larger than, the one which had attacked Standish. They came over the cliff in squadron formation, a dense cloud that blotted out the sky. For two days the men were kept prisoners, while the flock stalked back and forth about the ravine like a vast Roman encampment. A week later the thrads came. It was Ga-Marr who called them thrads. They were a tiny species of anthropoid, no larger than a squirrel, with bright red bodies. Inquisitive and bold, they hampered the two men as they gathered close to watch the work. The ship was nearing completion. While Standish labored at the control adjustments, Ga-Marr carried in a supply of food concentrates from the wrecked liner. Along the length of the ravine an inclined runway was built for a take-off. At the end of this, Standish constructed a rifle-like catapult, using the parts of Ga-Marr's rocket motor and a quantity of trinitrate cellulose he found in the liner. If the device worked, it would multiply their initial trajectory power and quicken their passage through the planet's gravitational field. At length Standish fastened the last bolt of the crude new ship in its place. Nervously, he pressed the starting button. The single motor began with a smooth powerful hum. The ship strained at its moorings. "Ready, Ga-Marr? We'll give her a trial flight and see how she handles." The little man grinned, shouted. "Cast off!" he cried. "Cast off!"