iar. The shape of the continents below him were
strange, but such unfamiliarity was commonplace. The voice from the
ground said matter-of-factly:

"_We think everything's under control, but it's hard to tell with
these paras. They got away with some weather rockets last week and may
have managed to mount war heads on them. They might use them on the
grid, here, or try for you._"

Calhoun said:

"What are paras?"

"_You'll be briefed when you land_," said the voice. It added:
"_Everything's all right so far, though._"

* * * * *

The _Esclipus Twenty_ went down and down and down. The grid had locked
on at forty thousand miles. It was a long time before the little ship
was down to thirty thousand and another long time before it was at
twenty. Then more time to reach ten, and then five, and one thousand,
and five hundred. When solid ground was only a hundred miles below
and the curve of the horizon had to be looked for to be seen, the
voice from the ground said:

"_The last hundred miles is the tricky part, and the last five will be
where it's tight. If anything does happen, it'll be there._"

Calhoun watched through the electron telescope. He could see
individual buildings now, when he used full magnification. He saw
infinitesimal motes which would be ground cars on the highways. At
seventy miles he cut down the magnification to keep his field of
vision wide. He cut the magnification again at fifty and at thirty and
at ten.

Then he saw the first sign of motion. It was an extending thread of
white which could only be smoke. It began well outside the city and
leaped up and curved, evidently aiming at the descending Med Ship.
Calhoun said curtly:

"There's a rocket coming up. Aiming at me."

The voice from the ground said:

"_It's spotted. I'm giving you free motion if you want to use it._"

The feel of the ship changed. It no longer descended. The landing-grid
operator was holding it aloft, but Calhoun could move it in evasive
action if he wished. He approved the liberty given him. He could use
his emergency rockets to dodge. A second thread of smoke came
streaking upward.

Then other threads of white began just outside the landing grid. They
rushed after the first. The original rockets seemed to dodge. Others
came up. There was an intricate pattern formed by the smoke trails of
rockets rising and other rockets following, and some trails dodging
and others closing in. Calh