Telaba sensed the mental vibrations that went with Shelby's words. "To turn back cannot do, Earthman," he said. And it seemed to the young engineer that there was a vibrant note of sadness in his telepathic voice. "Look! You see all guns and catapults point forward only. Not swing to rear--same on all gun cars. If run, not possible to shoot at chasing enemy. Then they get us. That Alkebar's idea so his men must take offensive or die. He think that make them strong." "But the riflemen are not so handicapped," Shelby persisted. "We can die here if necessary, but someone must live to carry on. Order them back!" The chieftain shook his bulbous head. "To try what you say--useless. They not desert comrades or king. If I command, they disobey." There was a finality in his words which neither of the Earthians tried to dispute. So that was it! Well, there was no sense wasting time talking. Shelby gripped a machine gun and sent a spray of explosive bullets ripping out into the ether. Janice did likewise. As they worked their weapons they spoke rapidly to each other. "You understood what Telaba said? You know what that means?" Shelby asked. "Yes. It's about the end of our tape, but that's nothing. We've been fairly lucky. All we can do now is hope that Ankova wins through to Mars in time, and fight like--like--" "Hell!" Shelby's words slipped between clenched teeth, and Jan flashed him a quick smile even as their tracer streams crossed in the midst of a group of hurtling Alkebarians who had pressed too close together. "Anyway, good luck!" "And the very best of luck to you!" The opposing forces were very close together now. The first of the Alkebarians were plainly visible--their long guns flashing--their ebony arms waving signals which probably passed for shouts of triumph among their ranks. CHAPTER X The Coming of the Atomic Ray Both armies had cut down their velocity enormously, but still they tore along at breakneck speed. And they moved like true Cossacks of the void, directing their machines by deft motions on the mysterious levers. Now diving, now climbing, now swinging this way and that to avoid the missiles of their opponents, they tore on. And death was everywhere. No torpedoes were flying now, but machine guns and rifles were working terrible havoc. And so the horde of Alkebar closed with the forces of the rebel chieftain. The machine which bore Telaba, directed by its skillful driver, dived and swung and zigzagged like a mad thing; but still the bullets rattled against the metal armor of the car. Its sides had been repeatedly struck, yet owing to its tough shell, had not yet been disabled. Everywhere about it, mounted horrors whirled in an inextricable tangle, shooting and loading, and dying by the green flashes, their vitals strewing the ether. Telaba had deserted his post at the signaling machine, for further orders were useless. For his rebels at least, it was every man for himself. He too was operating a machine gun.