in the roof.

"What are they? A new kind of bomb?" Masters asked.

"Norden's bomb never had a chance. Compared with what actually
happened in there, a bomb would have been a picnic. There's not a
living person left in the whole place."

"Not a--hold on there, Cap! Do you know how many were working?"

"They're all dead," Taylor said. Briefly he outlined what he had
seen in the plant.

"Norden, the blankety-blank!" Masters swore. "Shooting's too good
for him."

"This isn't connected with the war--at least not directly. It's
something else, Masters. What, I don't know yet, but I'm
beginning to think that it's something the human race has never
met before. Those spheres have killed a couple of hundred workers
with bolts of energy--"

"I'm no scientist, captain."

"That's the best I can describe this force, Masters. I might call
it heat-bolts, but it's probably partly electric and partly heat,
not entirely either. You see, Masters, heat is energy, just like
electricity and light. The energy these spheres shoot out is a
mixture of energies. We can imagine a spark of electricity
shooting out and striking a man like a bolt of lightning, but
it's hard to visualize heat behaving that way."

"Say, mister," the sentry interrupted, "my arms are getting
tired."

"Okay, buddy," Masters replied. "If I let you put your arms down,
will you behave like a nice little boy?"

"I'll be a perfect angel," the sentry said, lowering his arms.

"You'll be an angel if you aren't, too," Masters added.

"What's your name, soldier?" Taylor asked the sentry.

"Private Pember, sir. Company A, 110th infantry--"

"All right, Private Pember, you can carry this fellow."

Taylor shifted the faintly stirring Norden to the shoulders of
the soldier.

"If it will make you feel any easier, Pember," the captain went
on, "I can assure you that exigencies demanded your removal from
your post. Your life was in danger and you could do no good by
remaining there. In fact, there was nothing left to guard. You
can do more good for your country by coming with us."

"Yes, sir," Pember said. "I guess you are right, captain."

"You're a good soldier, Pember," Taylor went on. "A situation
like this is unique. It demands use of individual initiative,
rather than blind obedience to orders. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Pember said, adjusting the burden on his shoulder.

* * * * *

They reached the car.

A dozen o