ate guards waved him in immediately and two cycle guards ran
interference for him through the scores of video newsmen who lined the
spaceport street.

Bob Mills met him at the entrance to the Administration building.

"Sorry, George, but--"

"Yeah. Oh, sure. Now what the hell is it all about?"

Mills handed him a sheaf of tele-transmittals. They bore heavy secret
stamps. Harrison looked up quizzically.

"You saw the video boys," Mills said. "The wheels think there might be
some hysteria."

"Any reason for it?"

"Not that we know of--not that _I_ know of anyway. The thing is coming
in awfully fast--speed of light times a factor of at least two, maybe
four."

Harrison whistled softly and scanned the reports frowning.

"They contacted us--"

"What?"

"_--in perfect Intersolar Convention code._ Said they were coming in.
That's all. The port boys have done all they could to find out what to
expect and prepare for it. Somebody thought Engineering might be
needed--that's why they sent for you."

"Used Intersolar Convention code, eh," mused Harrison.

"Yes," said Mills. "But there's nothing like this thing known in the
solar system, nothing even close to this fast. Besides that, there was a
sighting several days ago that's being studied.

"One of the radio observatories claims to have received a new signal
from one of the star clusters...."

* * * * *

The huge metal vessel settled to a perfect contact with its assigned
strip. It hovered over the geometric center of the long runway and
touched without raising a speck of dust.

Not a sound, not a puff of smoke issued from any part of it. Immediately
it rose a few feet above the concrete and began to move toward the
parking strip. It moved with the weightless ease of an ancient dirigible
on a still day. It was easily the largest, strangest object ever seen
before at the spaceport.

A team of searchlight men swivelled the large spot atop the tower and
bathed the ship in orange light.

"What's that mean?" asked Mills paging his way through a book.

"'Halt propulsion equipment,' I think," said Harrison.

"It's a good thing the code makers were vague about that," smiled Mills.
"It's a good thing they didn't say jets or rockets--'cause this thing
hasn't got any."

"_Attention!_"

That single word suddenly issued from the alien ship.

"_The Races of Wan greet you._"

It might have been the voice of a frog. It was low, gut