He donned one of them, motioned Ga-Marr into the other. Then he tied a rope to the lever controlling the magnetic grappling bar, trailing it across the floor to the airlock.
"All right, Ga-Marr," he said. "Here we go."
The lock door slid open at his touch. Then and not until then did Ga-Marr understand. Directly below them, held to the Phantom's hull by the magnetic bars was their crude space ship. Balancing himself cautiously, Standish reached down and opened the hatch. He climbed in, and Ga-Marr quickly followed. Then the Earthman gave the rope a jerk. The grappling bars released, and the two ships drifted apart.
Alone and unmanned, the Phantom swept downward, her exploding rockets a blaze of glory in the black sky.
"And there goes the fleet!" Standish said. "They've sighted the Phantom."
Aware that hundreds of glasses must now be turned upward, he headed south beyond the outskirts of the city. He selected a flat open space by the ocean shore and glided quickly to a landing.
A hundred yards away the white expanse of a highway snaked through the dark countryside. No one apparently had noticed their descent. At a run, Standish headed for that highway. Twin head lights swept around a curve as he reached it, and a heavy gyro truck rumbled into sight.
The truck slowed to manipulate the curve. An instant later Standish and Ga-Marr leaped, clutched at the swaying tailboard and drew themselves aboard.
Before a large white building the two men dropped from the truck, darted across to the entrance. A Sirian guard stopped them armed with a ray gun.