"He's through," Bonwitt returned easily. "Fired; I'll bet."
"Me, too. But, sa-ay! Look at that!" Crane flung up his arms against a glare that blazed suddenly through the forward ports.
Directly ahead was a broad flat crater that shimmered in the sun's unobscured rays like a gigantic mirror of polished silver.
"Mercury!" gasped Bonwitt. "A lake of mercury ten miles across. No one's ever reported that."
"I'll bet Peterson knew about it. Look, he's circling."
It was so. The engineer flung his little ship off toward the east to avoid detection. They speeded out of the sun's reflection from that lake of mercury. Its unrippled surface rose rapidly off starboard and was blotted out by the crater wall that enclosed it.
Then the leading ship had landed. Bonwitt maneuvered to land in the shadow of a huge boulder. Clambering into their space-suits, they jumped the twelve feet to the powdery footing underneath. As easily as they'd have dropped two feet in earth gravity.
Space-suited likewise, Peterson and Gates ducked into the dark opening of a cavern mouth. Bonwitt and Crane sneaked after them. Inside the cave entrance was instant, utter blackness.
"Crane, where are you?" the engineer asked softly. For reply there came a crash as of the pinnacle of Proclus toppling on his helmet and a swirling burst of stars such as had never graced the firmament.
After that, Bonwitt slipped into blackness.