"We have the Stroid records. That's why I want them."
"But the Sirenians seemed to know nothing about the nature of the weapon."
"We're not so sure of that. But even if that's so, there was the great civilization of the Dragbora. We don't know that it is extinct, and we know nothing of its location—but the weapon may be there. And the clue to its location may be in the Stroid records."
Dreyer nodded and gave a violent puff of smoke. "He's right, Phyfe. We hadn't thought of it, but that may be our one chance. At least it gives us an objective instead of just plunging into purposeless flight."
"I suppose so," Phyfe said doubtfully. "But I don't see how—"
"I'll take care of that. Show us where the records are. We'll get the repository first, however; I want the whole thing brought aboard."
Underwood turned swiftly to Dawson and ordered the ship lowered beside the temporary structure housing the repository near the Stroid museum building. Then he stepped to the ship's interphone and explained their maneuver. He called for twenty volunteers to man scooters and weapons to cover those who were to transfer the records.
Below them, on the ground, the police forces who watched their prey escape stood puzzledly as the Lavoisier turned and moved slowly across the group of buildings and began dropping again. Three deadly police fliers hovered in the air about the great spaceship.
It was the fliers that Underwood watched with intent study. The twenty men he had selected out of the volunteers gathered around the viewing plates with him.
"The first objective will be to down those fliers," said Underwood. "Then you will provide constant cover for those of us who leave the ship to bring the records back. Go to your assigned airlocks. I'll signal when the fliers are in the best position for one group of you to attack it."