"More than that, man!" exploded McTavish. "There's science here. It takes science—genius—to eliminate the ether! It's never been done before!"
"I think you're right, Mister," McPartland said. His words fell with an inflection as soft and deadly as the impenetrable blackness about them. "There's science here—and outlaws, armed desperate men who would dare to try this.
"It's treason. Specialists and outlaws in an unholy alliance, trying for a coup d'etat—for power over the whole system! There'll be a demand for surrender."
"A black plot," quipped McTavish. But the others could hear the angry quickening of his breath.
"What choice will the Congress have but surrender?" Clemens asked sadly.
The Captain smashed the flat of his hand against the intra-ship phone before him. "WE have the choice! We are fighters! There can't be many of them in the plot—or it would have leaked out. They need the blackness for protection."
"Your logic is sound, Sir," said the calm voice of the Ray Control Officer. "But how will we reach them—how will we fight them?"
The others couldn't see McPartland's broad shoulders sag momentarily at the question. He thought of Almira Denton somewhere in Terra Base, and bunching muscles snapped his shoulders back.
"We'll find out when we land," he answered slowly.
"That'll be soon, man!" McTavish cried suddenly.