Then without apparent reason, the flight of catmen left their whirling circle on a tangent and streaked for space.
Behind them lay nine smoking ships—prey to the Solar Guard.
But they had not gone in vain. There were seven of the Solar Guard that would fly no more—seven ships and a total of one hundred and seventy-five men.
"Whew. They haven't any sense at all," snarled Downing.
"Either that or they value their lives rather poorly."
"Must be. I wouldn't know. But usually a vicious mind doesn't value life too highly."
"I wouldn't be too certain of that."
"All right. I won't belabor the point. I don't know. It just seems—"
The next ten days was under rigid rule. Lane's ships charged, and the last day was spent in replenishing the charges lost in the short but torrid fight.
"Now," said Lane, "what's with this hell-machine that the Little Man mentions?"