fact, Kandar was already conquered
in every respect except the landing of Mekinese on its surface. King
Humphrey, however, would want to observe all the rules. And there might
not be time.

The air force agreed with Bors. So squadron after squadron took off from
the airfield, on courses which had certain things in common. None of
them would pass over a fisherman's shack on Cape Farnell. None could
pass over a spot five miles north-north-east magnetic from that cape's
tip, where the bottom was fifty fathoms down and a suspicious magnetic
condition obtained. One more thing unified the flying squadrons: At a
given instant, all of them could turn and dive toward that fifty-fathom
depth at sea, and they would arrive in swift and orderly succession.
This last arrangement was a brilliant piece of staff-work. Men had
worked with impassioned dedication to bring it about.

But only these men knew. There was no sign anywhere of anything more
remarkable than winged squadrons sweeping in a seemingly routine
exercise about the heavens. Even so they were not visible from the cape.
The horizon hid them.

For a long time there was only blueness overhead, and the salt smell of
the sea, and now and again flights of small birds which had no memory of
the flight of their ancestors from ancient Earth. The planet Kandar
rolled grandly in space, awaiting its destiny. The sun shone, the sun
set; in another place it was midnight and at still another it was early
dawn.

But from the high blue sky near the planet's capital, there came a
stuttering as of a motor going bad. If anyone looked, a most minute
angular dot could be seen to be fighting to get back over the land from
where it had first appeared, far out at sea. There were moments when the
stuttering ceased, and the engine ran with a smooth hum. Then another
stutter.

The plane lost altitude. It was clear that its pilot fought to make
solid ground before it crashed. Twice it seemed definitely lost. But
each time, at the last instant, the motor purred--and popped--and the
plane rose valiantly.

Then there was a detonation. The plane staggered. Its pilot fought and
fought, but his craft had no power at all. It came down fluttering, with
the pilot gaining every imaginable inch toward the sandy shore. It
seemed certain that he would come down on the white beach unharmed, a
good half-mile from the fisherman's shack on the cape. But--perhaps it
was a gust of wind. It may have been somethin