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“Very well, sir,” nodded Kincaide, swallowing his disappointment. I should have liked to have Kincaide with me, for he was level-headed and cool in an emergency–but it was because of these very things that I wanted him in charge of the Ertak.

“We’re close enough now, sir, to select a landing place,” put in Correy. “There’s a likely spot, a safe distance away and apparently level, almost on the shore. Shall I set her down there?”

“Use your own judgment, Mr. Correy. You may order the landing force to arm and report at the exit port. As soon as you have made contact, you and Mr. Hendricks will report to me there.

“Mr. Kincaide, you will remain on duty here. I am leaving the conduct of the ship entirely to your judgment, asking you to remember only that the rescue of the Kabit and her nearly two thousand souls is the object of this expedition, and the safety of our own personnel cannot be given primary consideration.”

“I understand, sir,” nodded Kincaide gravely. He held out his hand in that familiar gesture of Earth, which may mean so much more than men ever dare put into words, and we shook hands silently.

There were to be three landing parties of five men and one officer each–eighteen men against a creature that held a mighty passenger liner in its coils!

“I wish, sir, that I were going in your place,” said Kincaide softly.

“I know that. But–waiting here will be the hardest job of all. I’m leaving that for you.” I turned and hurried out of the room, to make my entries in the log–perhaps my last entries–and secure my equipment.

* * * * *

There are times, in setting down these old tales of the Special Patrol Service as it was before they tacked a “Retired” after my name and title, that I wish I had been a bit more studious during my youth. I find myself in need of words, and possessed only of memories.

I wish I could think of words that would describe the sight that confronted us when we emerged from the Ertak and set foot upon the soil of that newly-born continent of Hydrot, but I find I cannot. I have tried many times, and I find my descriptions fall far short of the picture I still carry in my mind.

The ground was a vast littered floor of wilted marine growths, some already rotting away, while others, more hardy, or with roots reaching into as yet undried ooze, retained a sort of freshness. Crab-like creatures scuttled in all directions, apparently feasting upon the plentiful carrion. The stench was terrible, almost overpowering at first, but after a few minutes we became accustomed to it, and, in the intensity of the work we had undertaken, it was forgotten.

Progress was not possible on the ground. Sheltered from the sun by the thick growths it supported, it was still treacherously soft. But the giant marine vegetation that had retained something of its vigor provided a highway, difficult and dangerous and uncertain, but passable.

I remained with the party taking the most direct route to the unfortunate Kabit, while Correy and Hendricks led the parties to my left and right, respectively. We kept in constant touch with each other by means of our menores.

“I believe,” emanated Correy, “that the beast sees us. I had a good view of him a few seconds back, and his head was elevated and pointed this way.”

“It’s possible,” I replied. “Be careful, however, to do nothing to alarm or excite him. All men must keep under cover, and proceed with as little noise and commotion as possible. I’m going to see, now, if I can get in touch with anyone on the Kabit; with full power, communication might be possible even through the Kabit’s grounded hull.”