United States or Cook Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Two hundred yards from them the most formidable fighting force the world had ever seen littered the earth with gossamer-seeming cellate wings and streamlined bodies at all angles to each other. And it was completely useless. The least of the weapons of the air-fleet would have been a godsend to Thorn and Sylva.
The cellate diaphragm of the G.C. transmitter tore across from its violence and Thorn cursed bitterly. There was no way, now, of signaling.... A second racking crash as a second pellet flashed its tiny green flame.
This possibility should be considered before opening fire." Thorn Hard stiffened all over. He got up and swung down to the stubby little ship with its gossamer-like wings of cellate. He touched the report button. "Plane 257-A reporting seven-ten line. Thorn Hard flying. On Mount Wendel, on leave. Orders?" He was throwing on the screens even as he reported.
There was a huge, fan-shaped space where the vegetation about the rocket-ship was colored a vivid red. In air-photos, the rocket-ship would look remarkably like something from another planet. But nearby, Thorn could see a lazy trickle of fuel-fumes from a port-pipe on one side of the monster.... "That tower is nothing but cellate foam, which hardens. And Sylva! See?"
Word Of The Day