And now I saw why probably we had never yet hit the ship.
Its outline was revealed. "Now, Gregg—can you fling it from here?"
We were in position again. I flung my last missile, watched its light as it dropped. On the dome-roof two of Miko's men were crouching. My bomb was truly aimed—perhaps one of the few in all our bombardment which would have landed directly on the dome-roof. But the waiting marksmen fired at it with short-range heat projectors and exploded it harmlessly while it was still above them.
We swung up and away. I saw, high above us, Grantline's platform, recognizing its red signal light. There seemed a lull. The enemy fire had died down to only a very occasional bolt. In the confusion of my whirling impressions I wondered if Miko were in distress? Not that! We had not hit his ship; perhaps we had done little damage indeed! It was we who were in distress. Two of our platforms had fallen—two out of six. Or more, of which I did not know.
saw one rising off to the side of us. Grantline was over us. Well, we were at least three. And then I saw the fourth.
"Grantline is calling us up, Gregg."
"Yes."
Grantline's signal-light was summoning us from the attack. He was a thousand or two thousand feet above.