Maynard hated it. He hated the unknown who first said it. And then his
hatred changed to the creatures that had created this ill fortune. He
arose, his eyes blazing; and he thought:
_Am I mad?_
_How could any man with such hatred be anything but mad?_
_Then I am mad!_
He stormed out of the scanning room and went to the upper turret. He
strode in, and saw that the super-projector was being installed there.
Williamson turned and his face softened.
"Well, Guy?" he asked quietly.
"It's not well!" snapped Guy. Then his voice cleared and he said:
"Sorry, Ben. When?" he asked, meaning the vortex projector.
"Now, I think. We lifted it wholesale, generators and all."
"Then blast the accursed planet until it writhes!"
The vortex formed and hurtled down upon Mephisto. Again it formed and
went down, following the first. Rings of violent energy, the vortices
flew from the snout of the projector one after the other, time and
time again until Ben stopped because the power was running low. Lines
were thrown in from adjoining ships and the everlasting barrage
continued. Hour after hour it went on, and each vortex laid waste to a
section of Mephisto.
And long after the last Mephistan was dead, the Terran torpedoes
dropped on the planet. His men wondered, but still there came no order
to cease fire. Moonlet-mounted AutoMacs crossed the void and scored
Mephisto, and when the final blast was fired and the Patrol landed upon
Mephisto, no complete article of Mephistan life was anything but a
smoking, charred mass.
The taking of Mephisto was finished.
And Guy's hatred had passed through the saturation point, and all that
was left to him was a dull ache. Shock had taken him again; it was with
a dull, toneless voice that Guy issued orders to return the _Orionad_
to _Sahara Base_.