"Untie Dr. Spartan and give him a gun."
It was light enough to see now, and I pushed the Mars-car's throttle to
its peak.
_Chapter 17_
I had no idea how far we were from the spaceship. But it certainly
wasn't more than a ninety-minute run if I held the machine at top
speed. But battles can be won or lost in considerably less time, and
there was a battle being fought in the Solis Lacus area.
They were outside the ship--Axel, Joel and Spartan. I heard them
shouting in their helmet radios. I couldn't hear the sound of firing,
but Spartan--unwilling to relinquish his authority even though he was a
prisoner--was shouting orders. "Get that group to the left, Axel! About
nine o'clock--"
Axel must have the rifle, I thought.
Dr. Warner Joel was hysterical. His voice choked sobs. He prayed. He
swore. He moaned.
Axel mumbled incoherently. For all I knew he might have been talking
in Swedish. Maybe he was--I don't know. He was born in Minnesota of
Swedish parents and might have learned it in his childhood. Ordinarily,
he spoke good English, except that occasionally his phrasing took on a
foreign flavor, a throwback to something he'd learned from his parents
and neighbors.