The two passed from the control room to the gleaming engines. Here the silent engine crew hearkened to the pulse of the powerful rocket engine, and kept steady eyes on the gauges that showed the compressed ray fuel was feeding steadily into the discharger. Out of the engine room they passed to the after gun station. Ross tapped one of the six-inch torpedoes, and slapped one of the slim three-inch cylinders in the number two torpedo rack. "We may need them all soon," he told the station chief.
The gunnery chief's eyes widened. "We'll be ready, sir. Can you—is there anything I can tell the men about—Number Eight?"
Ross shook his head. "She's gone," he said briefly. "Might have been an accidental explosion—but I don't think so. We're landing soon. Just be ready, that's all."
He swung away to the forward gun station, saw that all hands were alert, and led the way back to the control room. Jorgens was pulling a sheet from the ray-type. He handed it over quickly.
It was from the Moon. "Warning to Earth Fleet!" it began. "Peak One wrecked. Come in on Peak Four." And it was signed "Artana."
Ross strode forward, his blue eyes blazing. "That's all, Jorgens?"
"No, sir. More coming now." He waited until the flying keys had rattled out two more lines, then ripped the sheet off. This message told more.
"Peak One wrecked by rebels who assassinated King Magnus. Signal systems at Peaks One, Two and Three destroyed. Greetings to Commander Ross. Artana."
"Rebels!" exclaimed Ross.
"Horta!" murmured Moore.