coping beyond which was the street
far below. He was dead--dead!--right this minute. What were a few
minutes more or less? He could climb over the coping; none of the
huddled, fear-gripped group would stop him. He could step out into space
and fool them, the devils. They could never kill him....

What was it MacGregor had said? Good egg, MacGregor! "But we can die
fighting...." Yes, that was it--die fighting. But he couldn't fight; he
could only wait. Well, what were the others doing, down there in the
streets--in their homes? He could wait with them, die with them....

He straightened slowly and drew one long breath. He looked steadily and
unafraid at the advancing specks. They were larger now. He could see
their round forms. The planes were less noisy: they were far up in the
heights--climbing--climbing.

The bulbs came slantingly down. They were separating. Thurston wondered
vaguely.

What had they done in Berlin? Yes, he remembered. Placed themselves at
the four corners of a great square and wiped out the whole city in one
explosion. Four bombs dropped at the same instant while they shot up to
safety in the thin air. How did they communicate? Thought transference,
most likely. Telepathy between those great brains, one to another. A
plane was falling. It curved and swooped in a trail of flame, then fell
straight toward the earth. They were fighting....

* * * * *

Thurston stared above. There were clusters of planes diving down from on
high. Machine-guns stuttered faintly. "Machine-guns--toys! Brave, that
was it! 'We can die fighting.'" His thoughts were far off; it was like
listening to another's mind.

The air was filled with swelling clouds. He saw them before the blast
struck where he stood. The great building shuddered at the impact. There
were things falling from the clouds, wrecks of planes, blazing and
shattered. Still came others; he saw them faintly through the clouds.
They came in from the West; they had gone far to gain altitude. They
drove down from the heights--the enemy had drifted--they were over the
bay.

More clouds, and another blast thundering at the city. There were
specks, Thurston saw, falling into the water.

Again the invaders came down from the heights where they had escaped
their own shattering attack. There was the faint roar of motors behind,
from the south. The squadron from Washington passed overhead.

They surely had seen the fate that awaited