dawn, Samuel Cabot called a halt.
"Everything is ready," he announced. "We will rest until ten, and at noon we leave. Try to sleep, everyone. God knows we shall need all our faculties for the struggle ahead!"
But Cabot's plea was vain. With such a moment only a few hours off, who on Io could hope to sleep? Hours ahead of time, they were milling about the square.
Nile Vanz got his soldiers into the ten fighting craft somehow. Ships' crews stood at their posts awaiting the order to take off. Vanz portioned the rulers off into different ships.
"We can't risk losing all our leaders in the destruction of one ship," he explained. "Tolek, you and Samuel will command the Valiant. I'll take Kris and young Cabot with me." He divided the rest into teams.
It was almost the last move before their departure. Margo and Kris spoke over the amplifiers to their people. Then the shining belly of the Orsis swallowed them and they reappeared behind the port of the flagship. Dane tried to think that it was the departure that made his heart light. But actually he knew it was that he and Margo would be in the same ship. Crewmen scrambled up after them and threw off lines. They hurried forward to the top deck as bells rang up and down the ship. Standing against the thick glass window, they looked out upon the people far below, a strangely quiet crowd. From ship to ship flashed the ready-signal. In the bow of the Valiant, Serj and Sam Cabot waved.
And now all sounds were hushed within the Orsis. A trembling passed down its sleek length. Slowly, silently, gathering speed, the warship rose from the square. The city dropped away. One by one, the other nine ships arched into the sky. A moment later, Io was a tiny speck in the stern ports.
FOR an hour the fleet was fighting the persistent gravity of Jupiter. As the drag was shaken off, the fighting craft hurled themselves forward, faster by the second. Silent as silver needles piercing space, they shot for Planetoid 88. It had been decided that the sleeping army would be picked up on the way. While the men's equipment was old-fashioned, it would do until more modern weapons could be provided. An army of occupation was a necessity, and the Earth-soldiers were best suited for such duty.
Two sleeping-periods passed. The Orsis churned on. Margo, Kris, Brooke and Dane were on the forward observation deck when the first inkling of disaster threatened, like the tip of a black wing passing over the ship. Nile Vanz stamped in, his seamed, iron-jawed visage full of repressed fury.
"Trouble already!" he barked. "I'll grill every half-witted fool in this hulk until I find the guilty one!"
The four looked at each other.
"What's wrong?" Margo asked hurriedly. "Sabotage?"
"You might call it that. Come along."
Puzzling over his meaning, they followed him. Not a word would Vanz speak until they reached the radio room on the top deck. Here he flung the door open and stood aside for them to enter.
Margo had hardly passed through the door when she shrank back with a cry. Over her shoulder Dane saw something that set his lips in a gray line. Blood was spattered on the near wall in scarlet gouts. On the floor, the top of his head shot away, lay the radio operator!
Vanz stalked inside. He yanked a coil from the mass of transmission equipment and let it lie on his upturned palm.
"Five kilobars wave-length," he snapped. "That's not Io's length. It's
