"Yeah," Limpy cut in. "That's why I'm calling. Send over a ship. Ours is wrecked."
The weary voice cursed. "I can't, Austin. We figured you had a boat, so we shipped them all to the other mines."
"Okay," Limpy shrugged. "Then we'll have to do without."
"Why don't you guys blow up the place and leave?"
"Maybe we'll have to. I don't know. When you get a chance—"
"Yeah," the man replied hastily. "The first ship that comes in, you guys get. So long, and good luck!"
Limpy switched off and glanced inquiringly at Mac, his paralyzed grin a slash of seemingly pure evil.
"Looks bad, Mac."
"Maybe," MacAloon said curtly. "If we can hold out till they give us a boat, we'll come through all right."
Nevertheless, he frowned, worried by the simultaneous attacks. There was something ominous behind them—and he didn't know what.