The disaster to the Disciples disrupted their attack for an instant. It was long enough for Underwood to get his gun up and fire straight at his opponent. The man started and whirled with a look of surprise on his face for an instant before he died. And then another shot came from the opposite side of the room and caught one of the remaining defenders unaware. Terry was there at last! * * * * * Underwood breathed heavily in relief. He had been afraid Terry had been caught. Apparently the archeologist had met opposition of his own and had eventually succeeded in overcoming it. Terry and Underwood rushed the control room simultaneously. Only a single member of the Disciples was able to offer resistance. Beams from the two guns crossed the room and caught him in a lethal blaze. Cautiously, Underwood advanced not quite inside the doorway. "Terry, you there?" he called. "Check. I ran into one of them in the corridor." "Keep out of the way. I'm going to come in blasting in your direction in case any more of these fanatics are hiding." "Right. If I don't get your okay in five or so, I'll come in the same way." Underwood set the beam to a low but deadly intensity and fanned it up and down, bringing the plane of motion ever nearer the wall that could be hiding an attacker. Without exposing himself, he extended his hand and brought the gun about until he knew the room was cleared or that any one hiding there had been hit. He entered then and called to Terry. The redhead entered grinning, but a smear of blood covered his left arm from the shoulder down. "Terry! You're hurt!" "I didn't get him good enough with my first shot. I'll be all right. What do we do now?" "We can clear the ship by throwing some chloryl triptanate into the air system. But even after that, we can't even go back to the moon to return Jandro to his own people--that would bring the whole fleet down on them." "We'll figure something out," said Terry optimistically. "We didn't expect to get this far. I wonder what happened to that guy Jandro. Have you found out where he actually is yet?" "No. He apparently killed Rennies, but I've heard nothing from him." "I'll get the triptanate, and some mesarpin for antidote. If I'm not back in half an hour, it'll be your baby." "You guard here," said Underwood, "You'd better take it easy with that arm of yours." "You're more important around here than I am. I'll be back in five minutes." Terry disappeared in the direction of surgery. Underwood sat down wearily--and suddenly became aware of the fixed dead stare of the eyes of Commander Rennies, who lay on the floor. His name had been vaguely familiar to Underwood and now he knew why. Rennies had attained considerable renown in the interstellar military field. He had been an able leader, highly trained, widely read, intelligent, and a clever tactician--yet his mind had been as vulnerable to Demarzule as the most illiterate of the Disciples.