The dark-flushed Admiral listened for a little while. Then he began shouting orders for the fleet to close in. He thought of something; his big hairy hand moved quickly; and the screen became a giddy blur.
The stellar cloud now was close ahead. A faint green light pervaded it—the eerie green of mysterious nebulium, it was just strong enough to outline jagged plunging masses of stone spinning in inconceivable vortices. Brief explosive crimson flickerings, beyond, suggested the appalling vastness and power of the cloud.
The Admiral's cruisers were closing in behind, a double ring of scarlet flares. Blue flickered among them. And white stars burst out in a blinding swarm about us—meteoric fragments exploded by the rays.
The big dark Saturnian looked gravely from his instruments to Kel.
"Still, Kel," he said, "there's the shadow of a chance—if we turn back among them!"
Kel Aran shook his yellow head, and his lips parted with a smile that welcomed danger.
"No," he said again. "I'm taking over now." And his bright, reckless face turned to me. "Now, Barihorn!" he whispered, "If your life is eternal—"
Then the dark sky behind and the pursuing crimson stars were blotted out. We were within the cloud!