s
away. They heard the clumsy vehicle move. It continued to growl, and
they knew that it was moving about the streets with its occupants
trying to sight fleeing figures under the darknesses which were trees.

"I hit--I hit the generator," panted Lockley. "I must have! Else
they'd swing a beam on us!"

He stopped. Here they were in a district where many large homes pooled
their lawns in block-long stretches of soft green. The street lights
cast arbitrary patches of brightness against the houses, but their
windows were blank and dark. This street, like most in this small
town, was lined with trees on either side. There were the fragrances
of flowers and grass.

"We aren't safe now," said Lockley, "but I just found out there may
not be any safety anywhere."

Jill's teeth chattered.

"What will we do? What was that machinery? I felt--frightened because
it wasn't what he said was back there. So I told you. But what was
it?".

"At a guess," said Lockley, "a terror beam generator. The invaders
must have human friends. To us they're spies. They're cooperating with
the monsters. Apparently they're even trusted with terror beam
projectors."

He stood still, thinking, while in the distance the trailer-truck
ground and rumbled about the streets. It was not a very promising
method for finding two fugitives. They could hide if it turned onto a
street they used. It could not continue the search indefinitely. The
most likely final course would be to leave some of the unknown number
of men in its trailer to search the town on foot. Even that might not
be successful. But it wouldn't be a good idea for Lockley and Jill to
remain here, either.

"We look for two-car garages," said Lockley. "It's not a good chance,
but it's all we've got. _If_ somebody had two cars, they might have
left one behind when they evacuated. I can jump an ignition switch if
necessary. Meanwhile we'll be moving out of town, which is a good idea
even if we do it on foot!"

They ceased to use the streets with their dramatic contrast of vivid
lights with total shadows. They moved behind a row of what would be
considered mansions in Serena, Colorado. Sometimes they stumbled over
flower beds, and once there was a hose over which Jill tripped, and
once Lockley barked his shin on a garden wheelbarrow. Most of the
garages were empty or contained only tools and garden equipment.

Then something made Lockley look up. A slender, truss-braced, mastlike
tower rose