t he'd be living over an
atomic bomb, triggered to be set off from a hundred miles away, she
demanded fiercely to know if he realized how she'd feel if she weren't
there too....

Next day an aircraft carrier put out of Naples with an escort of
destroyers. It traveled at full speed down the toe of Italy's boot,
through the Straits of Messina, across the Adriatic, and rounded the
end of Greece and went streaking night and day for Salonika. Special
technicians sent by plane beat her time by days. The Greek general was
there well ahead. And he expansively supervised while his inherited,
isolated villa was prepared for the reception of Invaders--and Coburn
and Janice.

And Coburn and Janice were married. It was an impressive wedding,
because it was desirable for the Invaders to know about it. It was
brilliantly military with uniforms and glittering decorations and
innumerable important people whom neither of them knew or cared about.

If it had been anybody else's wedding Coburn would have found it
unspeakably dreary. The only person present whom he knew beside Janice
was Hallen. He acted as groomsman, with the air of someone walking on
eggs. After it was over he shook hands with a manner of tremendous
relief.

"Maybe I'll brag about this some day," he told Coburn uneasily. "But
right now I'm scared to death. What do you two really expect to happen?"

Janice smiled at him. "Why," she said, "we expect to live happily ever
after."

"Oh yes," said Hallen uncomfortably. "But that wasn't just what I had in
mind."

VII

The world wagged on. The newspapers knew nothing about super-secret
top-level worries. There was not a single news story printed anywhere
suggesting an invasion of Earth from outer space. There were a few more
Flying Saucer yarns than normal, and it was beginning to transpire that
an unusual number of important people were sick, or on vacation, or
otherwise out of contact with the world. But, actually, not one of the
events in which Coburn and Janice had been concerned reached the state
of being news. Even the shooting off the Bay of Naples was explained as
an emergency drill.

Quietly, a good many things happened. Cryptic orders passed around, and
oxygen tanks were accumulated in military posts. Hunter and Nereid
guided missiles were set up as standard equipment in a number of
brand-new places. They were loaded for bear. But days went by, and
nothing happened. Nothing at all. But officialdom was not