Light was now flooding in from outside, and bodies could be seen lying thick on the floor, cold and stiff in death. Sadly Holden recognized many of them as his own men. After a hasty conference with Linet, he gathered together fifteen space suits, and with an escort helping to carry them, he hurried back to Jean. * * * * * The door of the air-lock opened as his party approached. They went in, heard the swish of air entering, and in a few minutes the inner door swung wide. A happy crowd of men and women surrounded them, as they rid themselves of their helmets. Holden felt Jean's arms around him, her sweet lips once more on his. For a second they clung together, then parted, for there was work to be done. The space suits were distributed and, as he led the way back to the _San Francisco_, Jean told him briefly the details of the long year of imprisonment. "They gave us warning before they rammed us, as they wanted to save the women, for a purpose you can guess. Fortunately, there were never enough of us to go around, and these men, exiles from two planets, were always quarreling among themselves, so we were quite safe. We just existed, praying that some exploring expedition would find us, or that the _Silver Death_ would meet a ship too strong for her to ram and, fleeing here for refuge, be trailed." Holden sighted Captain Linet hurrying toward them. In the light now flooding the entire cavern, he could see lines of despair and hopelessness written over the florid face. "What's the matter?" "Matter enough," came the ominous answer. "The space phone on our ship is entirely disabled. We won't be able to get in touch with the _Ganymede_ or the _Los Angeles_. In a few days, the _hexoxen_ charges they plant will commence to go off, and that will be the end of us." Holden stopped, stunned by the news. Fleeting visions of happiness with Jean vanished into thin air. He would be destroyed by the chemical he had invented, with which he had hoped to save the world. "I thought we might get out in the _Silver Death_," continued the captain, "but the entrance is entirely blocked by our own ship, and I'm afraid it will never move again." Then Jean's clear voice cut in. "How about the space phone on the _Silver Death_? Won't it work?" "Why, of course it will," laughed the captain, amused at his own stupidity. Stumbling and tripping in their haste, the three hurried through the open air lock of the pirate craft, into the pilot room. Holden feverishly set to work, whirling the strange dials, pushing this button, then that. At last a faint roar sounded in the loud speaker. Pressing his helmet against the transmitter, so that the vibrations would carry his voice, he shouted, "_Ganymede_, _Los Angeles_, Holden calling." "What ho?" came a cheery voice, which he recognized as belonging to Huges, commander of the _Los Angeles_.