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"Obviously, since we still have air in the place," commented Placer dryly. "You'd better call Mars City and get them to send help." "I've already done that," said Vidonati. "A jet squadron's on its way." "Good," said Placer.

Do a good job, but do it fast, and don't get caught up there by the rebels blasting the airlock." "I won't," promised Vidonati. "It'll only take me a few minutes, and I can be down the ramp before they can focus their beams on the airlock." In the lead groundcar, as the three of them wheeled around and headed slowly for the north building, Cheng turned to one of his companions with a frown.

We can switch to the emergency radio down here to keep in touch with the task force from Mars City, and just wait it out underground until they clean up these rebels." "Good enough," agreed Vidonati. "I won't take any chances." In the vats below, Dark and Maya made their way to Old Beard's hideout, their heatguns ready, keeping a sharp lookout for Toughs. They reached it without incident.

He and Maya started for the ramp, unaware that the building which was their goal housed the farm's control room, and the watching Vidonati. Above, a few moments later, Vidonati called Placer on the intercom. "Placer, they've come back to the groundcars and turned them in this direction," said Vidonati.

"What's the situation?" "The groundcars attacked the south building," replied Vidonati. "They moved in and concentrated all three car beams on the airlock and burned it through. I counted nine men in marsuits who left the groundcars and went into the building. Of course, as soon as they started blasting the airlocks, I closed the emergency barrier to block off the downward ramp."

We'll have to try to hunt them down in the vats, and maybe the Toughs can help us, but we don't want to get separated so they can pick us off one by one." "Wait, Placer, there's something you ought to know," said one of the two Masters who had come from the direction of the conference room. "Greyde called out a few minutes ago to tell us he had word from Vidonati in the control room.

Down below, he knew, Nuwell and the Masters were gasping out their lives in the thin air, like beached fish. Their recent attacker, Vidonati, lay half out of the door of the control room, his hands clutching convulsively at the floor. "That's not the way I'd planned it, but it's just as good!" Dark exclaimed. "We've taken the farm!" Then he remembered. Maya had no marshelmet!

The door at the other end of the room opened, and a man emerged, a heatgun in his hand. Vidonati stopped in his tracks, startled, at the sight of Dark and Maya. Dark grunted in surprise, and reached for his heatgun. Even as Dark freed his weapon, Vidonati fired. The beam missed them, melting away the top of Maya's marshelmet and setting the bunk aflame.

"They can be here in about five hours, and it will take those rebels, or whoever they are, two or three times that long to burn through one of the emergency barriers, even if they blast an opening and bring their groundcars into the building to bring the groundcars' big guns on it." "Should I stick it out here, or seal all the barriers and come below?" asked Vidonati.

Then, as the beam of Dark's gun swung toward him, Vidonati ducked precipitately back into the control room. "He got your marshelmet!" exclaimed Dark. "We're going to have to go in and flush him out of there, and just hope there's another marsuit in there, before we can open the airlock." Heatgun in hand, Dark started for the door of the control room, Maya at his heels.