Where to now?--thought Hilary. There were no more hiding places as perfect as the one they had just left. They were forced into the open, easy prey for the first lynx-eyed Mercutian. Sooner or later, they would be discovered, and then.... A last hopeless glance at the mocking stars. Never had man yearned more for rain, oceans and oceans of it. * * * * * Hilary roused himself. Whatever of despair he felt did not appear in his staccato orders. "We march at once, men," he said. "Scatter formation, five paces between. At the signal, take nearest cover, and prepare for action. Forward--" "Too late." Grim's voice was flat, controlled. Hilary looked around sharply. "What do you mean?" "Look." Morgan's hand swept aloft. Through the darkling night, faintly visible in the feeble starlight--there was no moon--were driving shapes, a full score of them converging upon the little band. One look was sufficient. Mercutian fliers hurrying in response to their fellow's signal. There was no time, no chance to escape. "Very well, men." Hilary commanded, coldly calm. "Take cover. Do not fire until I give the order." There was instant scattering. The men dived for whatever poor bit of protection they could find: jutting rocks, tree trunks, thin thorny bushes even. Grim and Hilary crouched together behind a great boulder. "How many pistols are there in the crowd?" Hilary asked quietly. "Not many. Outside of your automatic and my dynol pistol, there are two other dynols and not more than a dozen automatics. If only we had the submachine gun with us, but Wat took it along, and he's gone." "Not much chance, I'm afraid," said Hilary; "but we'll fight it out. Here they come." The two men crouched lower. All about them was silence; not even a leaf stirred in the heavy breathlessness. * * * * * The driving fliers were easily visible now. Ominous hurtling projectiles, coming to crush out the last vestige of revolt on the conquered planet. On they came, purposefully, directly, knowing their way; a full score, converging in a scream of wind against their bows as they dropped straight for the hidden gorge. It seemed to the hidden watchers as though they would crash to Earth with the speed of their swoop. But at one hundred feet aloft the fliers braked their headlong flight, hovered motionlessly in echelon formation. A moment's breathless pause--to the hiding men it seemed eternity--and all the uneven terrain, rocks, trees, bushes, the soil itself, burst into glowing white crystal clearness. The Mercutians had turned on their search beams. Hilary gazed clear through the rock behind which he crouched as though it were a transparency. All around him he saw the prone bodies of his men, naked to the view of all and sundry.