He told her, looking down into her eyes, moving his gaze from hair to lips, to cheeks and throat. She shuddered, listening, and he held her tighter. "It's no use, Kortha," she said at last. "We can't fight the fleet that Guantra can muster. The fact that he has those weapons makes a lot of difference. I knew when I came for you that we were nearly beaten. You were our only hope. If Kortha could come back from the grave--there would be a psychological value to the thing. We might aim at strikes, at seducing men from Guantra's navy. Build ships on the sly, from Mare Cimmerium to Sinus Gomer. But now--" Her shoulders drooped. Kortha scowled across at the red cliff crimson in the sunlight. It was true. The fleet that Guantra owned was the fleet that Kortha had built. Battleship and air-cruiser, he had blue-printed their models, seen them swung into their launching-cradles. He had manned it with picked men. Nothing on Mars could match it, certainly; possibly nothing on Earth or Venus, either, with the exception of their vast space fleets. He sighed. Xax shrilled a warning, clicking his needles. From the south a huge grey battleflier rose grim and massive above the flat mesa. Sunlight disclosed its rippled black star pennon, and the gleaming guns, and the swarms of fighters covering its decks. Towering masts brooded down across the plains, giving the ship an aetherial look that its dark bulk belied. Kortha laughed bitterly, "What use to talk of fleets now? That's Guantra's own flagship. He's come in person for me now. By some black magic, he's learned of what took place at Yassa. Probably took alarm when his radio calls went unanswered." They ran across the stones for the small cruiser, kicking pebbles into life, making them roll and bounce. With big hands, Kortha tossed Ilse into the open door of the flier; swept in after her with a hard, swift leap. The door clanged behind them. * * * * * The ship shuddered under a direct hit on her rear rockets. Kortha went flying, clutching at Ilse, dragging her down on him. His back met the far wall, and he cushioned her against his chest. Kortha was on his feet, eyes blazing. His hand went to his hammer, hefting it, lifting it up and down, very slowly. He snarled a little, deep in his throat. "He knows we're here. He's playing with us. He wants us alive." "There's my plane. If we hurry--" Across the stone-bottom, they saw the silvered hull of the little flier cave inward. Metal sides slivered, and splinters flew through the air. "Guantra has good gunners," said Kortha drily. "Let's learn if his combat units are as good." He drove the massy head of his hammer against the door, breaking it open. With Ilse in one arm he dropped to the rocks and walked away from the flier. Side by side, they stood and looked up at the gigantic ship that hovered yards above the plains. Men came swarming over its sides, dropping like ants from ropes, leaping toward them.