But as the centurion turned the knob in his helmet and shot up through the great shaft, he felt in his heart no great hope that such, indeed, would be the case. If the Martian Carrier were in the vicinity of Saturn it was altogether likely that they had come prepared to destroy the Earth Carrier, and would be equipped with their best weapon. Dynamon hoped against hope that he and the little force would reach the surface in time to get to their own Carrier, whose thick walls the Martians' Ray could not penetrate. After that, it would be a case of maneuvering the Carrier in such a way as to try to disable the Martians' ships.
The humans, their gravity repellors turned up full strength, whizzed up the black shaft at a tremendous rate of speed. Even so, it seemed hours before a small gray disc above him warned Dynamon that they were nearing the top. He spoke some words of command into his radio phone and cut down his upward speed. In a few moments he stepped over the rim of the shaft into the gray light of the Saturnian midday. He glanced down into the valley in the direction of the Carrier and felt a shock of dismay go through him.
The gray Earth Carrier was in the same place, but a half a mile on either side of it were two flaming red Martian Carriers. And out on the gray sand far from any of the ships a furious battle was going on. Some twenty tall, human figures were ringed around by a swarm of tiny, globular Martians. A continuous series of white flashes showed that the humans were desperately hurling their voltage bombs, but the encircling Martians were keeping well out of range and a dozen still forms on the ground showed that the invisible Photo-Atomic Ray was doing its deadly work.
All too clearly, Dynamon saw what had happened. In the absence of a commanding officer, himself or Mortoch, Borion had unwarily sent a force of soldiers out scouting. The Martians had swooped down, landed swiftly, and cut off the force from the Carrier. The humans were desperately trying to cut through to safety, but their situation looked hopeless.
Quickly, Dynamon turned and faced the men behind him and held up his hands in a gesture signifying that no one should use his radio phone. He had determined to try and help his beleaguered soldiers down in the valley, and the only way that could successfully be done was to surprise-attack swiftly on the rear of the Martians. He motioned Keltry and Thamon back into the pit and then, sweeping his arm forward in a wide arc, he plunged down the hillside. But before he had covered half the distance to the combat in the valley, Dynamon realized that his attack was coming too late. The Photo-Atomic Ray was cutting down the little force of humans like an invisible scythe. There were only nine of them left now and one by one these were falling. A thousand thoughts raced through Dynamon's head. Should he go ahead with the attack, courting on getting within bombing distance of the Martians unnoticed, before they could swing their Photo-Atomic Ray around? Or, should he change direction, skirting the enemy, and make a run for the Carrier? Suddenly, his blood froze in his veins as a voice sounded in his ear phones.
"This is suicide, Dynamon!" It was Mortoch's voice.