CHAPTER 18Three Earth-days later, the eight pirate ships swung down in the murk of Jovian atmosphere, above the Red Spot.
Fast ships, they had rammed across space wide open. One deep-space Martian patrol had given chase, was left behind by an arcing maneuver that Bruce directed.
Bruce looked down eagerly for the ground. At last the vague mushroom shapes of the Martian war base blossomed out. He called a halt, spoke rapidly, outlined plans of attack.
Bruce knew several things were in their favor. Feeling secure beneath the sight-obscuring mists of the Red Spot, the Martians kept a lax warning system, probably sweeping the upper clouds by radar only at routine occasions.
Secondly, the warships clustered below were not yet fueled or tuned up for battle of any kind. That would come on some
