In ten hours, the USAF complement had curved around and were about 10,000 kilometers from the _Zemlya_. Their speed was approximately 20,000 kilometers an hour at this point, but they were decelerating. The Moon was bulking larger; ahead of them, visible by the eye, were two steady gleams. The _Zemlya_ and the only Axis vessel which had not been blown to bits or sliced to fragments. According to the _Zemlya_, which was again in contact with the Russian base, the Axis ship had been cut in two by a tongue from _Zemlya_. But the interstellar ship was now defenseless. It had launched every missile and anti-missile in its arsenal. And the fuel for the tongue-generators was exhausted. "Furthermore," said Shaposhnikov, commander of the _Zemlya_, "new USO has been picked up on the radar. Four coming in from Earth. If these are also Axis, then the _Zemlya_ has only two choices. Surrender. Or destroy itself." "There is nothing we can do," replied Eratosthenes. "But we do not think those USO are Axis. We detected four destroyer-sized objects leaving the vicinity of the USAF base, and we asked them for identification. They did not answer, but we have reason to believe they are North American." "Perhaps they are coming to our rescue," suggested Shaposhnikov. "They left before anyone knew you were being attacked. Besides, they had no orders from us." "What do I do?" said Shaposhnikov. Scone, who had tapped into the tight laser beam, broke it up by sending random pulses into it. The _Zemlya_ discontinued its beam, and Scone then sent them a message through a pulsed tongue which the Russian base could tap into only through a wild chance. After transmitting the proper code identification, Scone said, "Don't renew contact with Eratosthenes. It is held by the Axis. They're trying to lure you close enough to grab you. We escaped the destruction of our base. Let me aboard where we can confer about our next step. Perhaps, we may have to go to Alpha Centaurus with you." * * * * * For several minutes, the _Zemlya_ did not answer. Shaposhnikov must have been unnerved. Undoubtedly, he was in a quandary. In any case, he could not prevent the strangers from approaching. If they were Axis, they had him at their mercy. Such must have been his reasoning. He replied, "Come ahead." By then, the USAF dishes had matched their speeds to that of the _Zemlya's_. From a distance of only a kilometer, the sphere looked like a small Earth. It even had the continents painted on the surface, though the effect was spoiled by the big Russian letters painted on the Pacific Ocean. Scone gave a lateral thrust to his vessel, and it nudged gently into the enormous landing-port of the sphere. Within five minutes, his crew of ten were in the control room.