In truth I had no possible idea. But if ever a chance should come for escape—
"In the pressure chamber," I whispered, "would there be pressure suits? One for you—"
"Yes. Yes, there are."
A commotion up at the control turret interrupted us. The black-garbed man at the electro-telescope there was shouting. Jerome came running; and we followed him up into the turret. He was grim, but ironically smiling.
"Interplanetary Patrolship off there," he said. "Patrolship-3."
Sister ship of my ill-fated vessel.
"Sighted us?" I murmured.
He shrugged. "Probably. Only three thousand miles away—probably did." His mouth was set into a grim hard line. In his eyes I saw that gleam of fanatic irrationality. "Unfortunate, for them. This little vessel of mine has never been sighted before, you know." His lips twitched with a grin. "You see how we are dressed here? Why, we've even been down into Earth's atmosphere—we've landed and made away without discovery. We'll do that on Deimos. And now this Patrolship—no one on it will ever live to tell that even for a moment they sighted the Phantom raider!"
He turned to an intricate bank of levers, dials and tiny vacuum globes that were ranged on a table here at the side of the control room. Separate from the space-flying mechanisms. The controls of the mechanical electronic invisibility.
"You'll see us go into action now, Fanning. It should be interesting."