licked," the captain added, casting his steely blue eyes at the entanglements. The place was a grisly sight, strewn with parts of thousands of long-bodied Venusians.

But the captain knew and the lieutenant knew—perhaps even the major knew—that Outpost 53 was worth any sacrifice the Venusians were willing to make. If this post were captured, the Venusians could control their planet again. There were any number of reasons why it was best that the planet be governed by terrestrials, and not all of them were commercial. The Venusians were murderous, evil, destructive creatures who hated every other living thing in the universe.

Captain Bonnet checked his casualties. Of his crew of sixty, three were dead and twelve paralyzed by the poisoned darts the Venusians used. The other forty-five were half dead from exhaustion. Three days of fighting was about all any man could stand.

Captain Bonnet's men had been in a more or less exposed position during the first part of the battle and their casualties had been heavy while they tried to prevent The Piece of Sky's destruction. But probably ten percent of the fifteen hundred men who manned Outpost 53 were out of the action now, the majority of them suffering temporary paralysis from dart poison. The captain realized that the attack would continue until the Venusians captured the post.

The radio power house had been destroyed first of all. Then the space ship had been wrecked. The outpost was cut off from communication with the earth. Reinforcements who could attack the Venusians from above and disperse them would not be due for two months. If Outpost 53 lasted three weeks, it would mean fighting to the last man.

Lieutenant Riley reached into his bag between coughs of the Amorg gun. He brought out a slender bottle and pulled the cork. He pressed the bottle into Captain Bonnet's hand.

"Martian Zingo," the lieutenant said. "A friend of mine gave it to me for a little service in the Canal campaign on Mars. I've been saving it for a special occasion and it looks like this is it. Here's to our short and merry lives, Captain!"

Night brought some relief, although the poisoned darts still rained on the outpost and the ground was lighted with flashes of the atom guns.

Major Rogers, his face drawn with weariness, stomped to the spacemen's battery.

"We've got to get a man through to earth, Captain," the major said. "Can't your ship be 

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