A red light over the viso-set winked, and then glowed steadily. Barfield, the viso operator, sprang to his control board and swiftly manipulated switches and dials. The viso-screen remained blank, but from the speaker came the familiar uproar produced by the vibrations that flood space. Barfield swung the controls, seeking the wave-length of the station at Tracolatown.
"Calling the Denebola," said the speaker, hollowly, a moment later. "Calling the Denebola ... where are you, Denebola? 3TRA45 calling. Tracolatown calling the Denebola."
"They've got those hull plates working, Captain," cried Barfield. "That's the Martian operator, Nunglon! This is the Denebola, Nunglon!" he continued, speaking into the phone. "The Denebola calling Tracolatown! A mutiny ... the crew deserted. They drained our tanks and we're drifting. Here's our position—" He turned to Chapman. "What is the position?"
The pilot began reading off the ship's co-ordinates. "Send him those. They're some hours old, but they can start on them, and correct course as soon as our present position is determined."
"Stop!" interrupted Markoe. "Wait a minute. We can't call a ship out here. What about the flames?"
They looked at him. In the silence two men in space-suits entered the cabin; stood still, surprised. "What's the matter?" asked one, crawling from his suit. "The plates are working, ain't they? What's wrong?"
"What's the flames got to do with it?" demanded Simms. "To hell with the flames! We can transfer to the patrol ship if the Denebola's completely destroyed. We could even navigate her back in space-suits, if she'll still move. Go on, Barfield, send our position."
"Mr. Simms," said Wallace, quietly, "I'll give the orders. We'll hear Mr. Markoe's objection. What about the flames, sir?"
"Just this, Captain," said Markoe. "If we call a ship out here and transfer to it, what's to stop these things from transfering, too? Any ship that comes near us is done for, the same as the Denebola, unless we find some way to destroy them."
"So you tell us," growled Simms. "And ask us to sacrifice our lives on your guesses. I won't do it, I tell you! You don't know what these things are, or where they came from. You know nothing about them."