on. There was a continual mutter of conversation about it
in the background.

An hour later, sweat covered Julia's face. The book was still suspended.

"Put in the next frequency range unit," Dr. Norvel said wearily.

A general bustled in. "General Tibbets wants to know how we're doing
here."

Silence greeted him.

"The paratroopers are ready," the general said defensively.

* * * * *

Lycan bustled about, making last minute preparations in the larger
compartment. His faceted eyes gleamed with excitement. Now and then he
spoke to a mutant.

"You ready, Fred?"

"Yes, Lycan. I'm nervous, but I'm ready."

"It's natural," Lycan reassured.

The mutants shuffled their feet and cleared their throats and wiped
their palms. They smiled uneasily.

"Form a line!" the Elder called. "We're ready to load you."

The mutants complied. They spoke in hushed undertones. Their focus rods,
like tall staffs, bristled unevenly above their heads.

Lycan led them up the ladder to the second level. Led them down the long
corridor. Led them past gleaming, whirring machinery.

In the huge, open launching area, the other aliens made last minute
adjustments on the saucer ships.

The Elder sent the first group forward. They boarded their ships. The
aliens withdrew.

A section of the wall unfolded. Air hissed away, expelling the saucer
ships out into space. The mutants worked their simple controls. The
saucer ships floated together as if for protection. On signal, they
plunged earthward.

The section of the wall folded back. Air entered. The aliens rushed out
and unloaded more saucer ships from the storage compartments.

Mutants entered and boarded. The aliens withdrew. The wall unfolded. A
second group of saucer ships plunged earthward. The wall folded back. It
was as if the space station had opened its mouth; as if the mouth had
breathed flying saucers.

Down they came.

Early Sunday sunlight burst across the eastern part of the North
American continent.

Nearly a thousand saucers, in five compact groups, one group for each
continent, slipped one after another into the atmosphere.

There was no opposition. No planes rose to challenge them. They braked
and flattened and skimmed toward their assigned landing sites.

And they touched down: in the hearts of industrial cities; in farm
communities; at military installations. They streaked up from the
horizon; they hovered; they settled gently