His glittering eyes roamed about the control room. "So this is the secret weapon of the Crypt! I knew it'd be something my boys would be better off not seeing—no chance of a leak this way."
"Earth troops will find it," Barry threatened.
"An atomic bomb will take care of that," the ore-king countered smoothly. "You won't be around to tell them about it, and neither will the girl. I'll keep the secret myself."
Keeping his weapon trained on the two, Grey prowled about the room.
"Here's the ship's log," he thumbed through rapidly, not relaxing his vigilance for an instant. "Hmm. Left Earth in 2085—during the last Continental War. Two scientists, a rich backer—" His hand swept to the body in the chair. "That would be him—rich backers are often seeking power.
"Ship-full of refugees from all lands—average people. Going to establish a Utopian world on Mars." He snapped the book shut.
"Ancestors of your savages, Grey," said Barry quietly.
"Yes," replied the ore-king. "Brains killed each other off in a locked control room—probably the keys to the ship's stores are locked in here with them. That left the others on their own—no sciences, no arts! They just farmed.
"What a clincher you almost had, Williams!"