"A lot of people probably thought the same thing," Frank replied.
"Flying saucers were pretty common. Nobody thought they were anything
and nobody paid much attention. Then they hit--three days ago--and wiped
out every living soul in three little southern Michigan towns. From
there they began spreading out. They--"

Each of them heard the sound at the same time. A faint rumble,
increasing swiftly into high thunder. They moved as one to the window
and saw four jet planes, in formation, moving across the sky from the
south.

"There they come," Frank said. "The fight's started. Up to now the army
has been trying to get set, I suppose."

Nora said, "Is there any way we can hail them? Let them know--"

Her words were cut off by the horror of what happened. As they watched,
the plane skimmed low across the Loop. At a point, approximately over
Lake Street, Frank estimated, the planes were annihilated. There was a
flash of blue fire coming in like jagged lightning to form four balls of
fire around the planes. The fire balls turned, almost instantly, into
globes of white smoke that drifted lazily away.

And that was all. But the planes vanished completely.

"What happened?" Wilson muttered. "Where'd they go?"

"It was as if they hit a wall," Nora said, her voice hushed with awe.

"I think that _was_ what happened," Frank said. "The invaders have some
kind of a weapon that holds us helpless. Otherwise the army wouldn't
have established this no-man's-land and pulled out. The reports said we
have them surrounded on all sides with the help of the lake. We're
trying to keep them isolated."

Jim Wilson snorted. "It looks like we've got them right where they want
us."

"Anyhow, we're damn fools to stick around here. We'd better head south."

Wilson looked wistfully about the room. "I guess so, but it's a
shame--walking away from all this."

Nora was staring out the window, a small frown on her face. "I wonder
who they are and where they came from?"

"The teletype releases were pretty vague on that."

She turned quickly. "There's something peculiar about them. Something
really strange."

"What do you mean?"

"Last night when we were walking up the street. It must have been these
invaders we heard. They must have been across the street. But they
didn't act like invaders. They seemed--well, scared. I got the feeling
they ran from us in panic. And they haven't been back."

Wilson said, "They may not have been there at