The vessels transporting the invading forces were huge, spherical shells equipped with short-range drives--and with nothing else. No accommodations, no facilities, no food, no water, not even any air. Each transport, when filled to the bursting-point with as-yet-docile cargo, darted away; swinging around to approach Clamer from some previously-assigned direction. It did not, however, approach the planet's surface. At about two thousand miles out, great ports opened and the load was dumped out into space, to fall the rest of the way by gravity. Then the empty shell, with only its one pilot aboard, rushed back for another load. "How heavy shots, Clee?" James asked. He and Lola were getting into their scanners. "Wouldn't take as much as a kiloton equivalent, would it?" "Half a kilo is plenty, but no use being too fussy about precision out here." * * * Garlock and Belle were already bombing; James and Lola began. Slow and awkward at first, Lola soon picked up the technique and was firing blast for blast with the others. No more loaded transport vessels left the moon. No empty one, returning toward the moon, reached there. In much less than the three hours Garlock had mentioned, every Ozobian transport craft had been destroyed. "And now the real job begins," Garlock said, as James dropped the starship down to within a few miles of the moon's surface. That surface was cratered and jagged, exactly like that of the half always facing Clamer. No sign of activity could be seen by eye, nor anything unusual. Even the immense trap-doors, all closed now, matched exactly their surroundings. Underground, however, activity was violently intense; and, now, confused in the extreme. "Why, there isn't a single adult anywhere!" Lola exclaimed. "I thought the whole place would be full of 'em!" "So did I," Belle said. "However, by hindsight, it's plain enough. Their job done, they were killed and eaten. Last meal, perhaps." "I'm afraid so. Whatever they were, they had hands and brains. Just _look_ at those shops and machines!" "What do we do, boss?" James asked. "Run a search pattern first?" "We'll have to, I guess, before we can lay the job out." It was run and Garlock frowned in thought. "Almost half the moon covered--honeycombed. We'll have to fine-tooth it. Around the periphery first, then spiral into the center. This moon isn't very big, but even so this is going to be a hell of a long job. Any suggestions, anybody? Jim?" "The only way, I guess. You can't do it hit-or-miss. I'm _damn_ glad we've got plenty of stuff in our Op field and plenty of hydride for the engines. The horses will all know they've been at work before they get the field filled up again." "So will you, Junior, believe me.... Ready, all? Start blasting."