Dreyer nodded and gave a violent puff of smoke. "He's right, Phyfe. We hadn't thought of it, but that may be our one chance. At least it gives us an objective instead of just plunging into purposeless flight." "I suppose so," Phyfe said doubtfully. "But I don't see how--" "I'll take care of that. Show us where the records are. We'll get the repository first, however; I want the whole thing brought aboard." Underwood turned swiftly to Dawson and ordered the ship lowered beside the temporary structure housing the repository near the Stroid museum building. Then he stepped to the ship's interphone and explained their maneuver. He called for twenty volunteers to man scooters and weapons to cover those who were to transfer the records. Below them, on the ground, the police forces who watched their prey escape stood puzzledly as the _Lavoisier_ turned and moved slowly across the group of buildings and began dropping again. Three deadly police fliers hovered in the air about the great spaceship. It was the fliers that Underwood watched with intent study. The twenty men he had selected out of the volunteers gathered around the viewing plates with him. "The first objective will be to down those fliers," said Underwood. "Then you will provide constant cover for those of us who leave the ship to bring the records back. Go to your assigned airlocks. I'll signal when the fliers are in the best position for one group of you to attack it." Byers, the engineer mechanic appointed captain of the group, nodded. "They won't know what hit 'em," he promised. "I hope so," said Underwood. "All right, take your stations and signal when you're ready." The men filed out of the room while the big ship slowly settled toward the Earth. The three police fliers continued to move about with deadly inquisitiveness. Then the sudden signal from Byers indicated the men were positioned and ready. Underwood watched the fliers. One was out of sight of the other two near the nose of the _Lavoisier_. Underwood called sharply: "Number three, attack!" Almost instantly, a lock opened behind the unsuspecting police flier and three scooters darted out, their riders firing a deadly stream which came to a focus on the tail of the flier. A sudden blossom of flame sent up a plume of black smoke and the flier nosed Earthward without its occupants knowing what had struck. But now the second flier was rounding the hull and the three scooters were spotted. The police fired and one scooter plummeted out of sight. * * * * * "Number seven!" Underwood ordered. A lock near the top of the hull opened and a second trio of scooters darted out. The flier was beneath them, and its pilots had time to look up and see the blasting fire that poured through the transparent bubble over them. But they had no time to retaliate.