the mountain's side, and the scene that lay before them
was crystal clear. There were billowing clouds of gas that spread over
the land where the ships had passed. Other ships followed; they would
blanket the island in gas.

The man beside them gave a sigh of regret. "They have struck the first
blow," he said. He stood silent with half-closed eyes; then: "I have
ordered resistance." And there was genuine sorrow and regret in his
eyes as he looked toward the mountain top.

McGuire's eyes followed the other's gaze to find nothing at first save
the volcanic peak in hard outline upon the background of gold; then
only a shimmer as of heat about the lofty cone. The air above him
quivered, formed to ripples that spread in great circles where the
enemy ships were flashing away.

Swifter than swift aircraft, with a speed that shattered space, they
reached out and touched--and the ships, at that touch, fell helplessly
down from the heights. They turned awkwardly as they fell or dropped
like huge pointed projectiles. And the waters below took them silently
and buried in their depths all trace of what an instant sooner had
been an argosy of the air.

The ripples ceased, again the air was clear and untroubled, but
beneath the golden clouds was no single sign of life.

* * * * *

The flyer's breathless suspense ended in an explosive gasp. "What a
washout!" he exclaimed, and again he thought only of this as a weapon
to be used for his own ends. "Can we use that on their fleets?" he
asked. "Why, man--they will never conquer the earth; they will never
even make a start."

The tall figure of Djorn turned and looked at him. "The lust to kill!"
he said sadly. "You still have it--though you are fighting for your
own, which is some excuse.

"No, this will not destroy their fleets, for their fleets will not
come here to be destroyed. It will be many centuries before ever again
the aircraft of the reds dare venture near."

"We will build another one and take it where they are--" The voice of
the fighting man was vibrant with sudden hope.

"We were two hundred years building and perfecting this," the other
told him. "Can you wait that long?"

And Lieutenant McGuire, as he followed dejectedly behind the leader,
heard nothing of Professor Sykes' eager questions as to how this
miracle was done.

"Can you wait that long?" this man, Djorn, had asked. And the flyer
saw plainly the answer that spelled dea