d toward them, swelling visibly,
momently, into a blinding monster of incandescence. And toward them also
flung the Earth, enlarging with such indescribable rapidity that
Cleveland protested involuntarily, in spite of his knowledge of the
peculiar mechanics of the vessel in which they were.

"Hold it, Fred, hold it! Way 'nuff!" he exclaimed.

"I'm using only a few thousand kilograms of thrust, and I'll cut that as
soon as we touch atmosphere, long before she can even begin to heat,"
Rodebush explained. "Looks bad, but we'll stop without a jar."

"What would you call this kind of flight, Fritz?" Cleveland asked.
"What's the opposite of 'inert'?"

"Damned if I know. Isn't any, I guess. Light? No ... how would 'free'
be?"

"Not bad. 'Free' and 'Inert' maneuvering, eh? O.K."

Flying "free", then, the super-ship came from her practically infinite
velocity to an almost instantaneous halt in the outermost, most tenuous
layer of the Earth's atmosphere. Her halt was but momentary. Inertia
restored, she dropped at a sharp angle downward. More than dropped; she
was forced downward by one full battery of projectors; projectors driven
by iron-powered generators. Soon they were over the Hill, whose violet
screens went down at a word.

Flaming a dazzling white from the friction of the atmosphere through
which she had torn her way, the _Boise_ slowed abruptly as she neared
the ground, plunging toward the surface of the small but deep artificial
lake below the Hill's steel apron. Into the cold waters the space-ship
dove, and even before they could close over her, furious geysers of
steam and boiling water erupted as the stubborn alloy gave up its heat
to the cooling liquid. Endlessly the three necessary minutes dragged
their slow way into time, but finally the water ceased boiling and
Rodebush tore the ship from the lake and hurled her into the gaping
doorway of her dock. The massive doors of the airlocks opened, and while
the full crew of picked men hurried aboard with their personal
equipment, Samms talked earnestly to the two scientists in the control
room.

"... and about half the fleet is still in the air. They aren't
attacking; they are just trying to keep her from doing much more damage
until you can get there. How about your take-off? We can't launch you
again--the tracks are gone--but you handled her easily enough coming
in?"

"That was all my fault," Rodebush admitted. "I had no idea that the
fields would extend be