Sarka, exchanging glances with his father, rose and stepped again into
the laboratory. Even as he entered the room of the Master Beryl,
Jaska's broken signal came through.

"I am ready, Sarka!" came her soft voice, vibrant with confidence. "The
Gens is ready, and the Gens believes in me!"

For a moment Sarka hesitated before taking the plunge. Then he spoke the
fatal words.

"Go, Jaska, and my love goes with you!"

As the Earth approached closer to the Moon, the revolving of the Beryls
had been decreased, so that the motion of the Master Beryl was almost
normal--normal being that speed with which it revolved when it was
necessary to use it for visual contact with the people of the Earth.

Out of the area of the Gens of Dalis darted the green specks which were
the flying people of Dalis! Sarka, staring in among them, focussing the
Beryl-microscope, sought for some way of identifying Jaska, who led
them. A thrill coursed through him when he made her out,
unmistakably--dressed still in the tight white clothing of her own Gens,
with the Red Lily of the house of Cleric on her breast and on her back!
The daughter of Cleric was leading the Gens of Dalis into combat under
her own colors and her father's insignia!

* * * * *

Sarka raced back to the Observatory, seated himself again to watch the
attack, which must of necessity be joined within a matter almost of
minutes. Those myriads of Aircars flying outward from the Moon, had
seemed invincible; but up until now he had never seen an entire Gens
mustered at one time. His whole being thrilled with the awesome grandeur
of the spectacle; it seemed that not an able-bodied individual of the
Gens of Dalis had failed to answer the muster of the Gens.

Millions upon millions of people, taking off the icy roof of that part
of the Earth lying between Ohi and the North Pole, from the heart of
what had once been part of the Pacific Ocean.

So many of them were there that when they were free of the Earth,
flashing outward at two thousand miles an hour, it was impossible to see
the Moon or those formidable Aircars--and still, out of the heart of the
area of the Gens of Dalis, came other myriads, each flight waiting only
for the preceding flight to clear!

The green, tight fitting clothing of the Gens of Dalis, each individual
wearing the yellow star of the Spokesman of the Gens! A marvelous,
awe-inspiring sight!

And this was but a single area,