Lloyd, his worries abetted by Kroner's response, got to his feet, shouting, "Mayday! Mayday!"
His men—and Ulkay's a few seconds later—were up, everybody snapping on portable torches and setting the chamber alive with flashing lights.
"Ulkay!" Lloyd said, rushing to the Venusian. "If you're not the Martians, and we're not the Martians, then there is still a chance that someone else is the Martians!"
Ulkay yelled something to his men, and Lloyd watched with horror as each Venusian fumbled at an empty scabbard upon his belt. Lloyd's hand shot to his holster and found there just what his men were finding in their own holsters: nothing.
"Do you think we've discovered the Martians?" said Kroner, his voice hoarse with fright.
Then the glaring overhead lights of the room came on, revealing the surrounding phalanx of hard-eyed, armed creatures.
"Unless I'm mistaken," Lloyd said, "the Martians have discovered us."
An instant later, there was nothing in the center of the alien room but half-molten air compressors and the charred, smoking remains of a funny-looking little nozzle, still echoing a bilingual chorus of agony.