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Updated: June 13, 2025
For God's sake try something. Anything." Thorn roused himself by a terrific effort. He managed to ask a question by exhausted gestures in the Watch visual alphabet. "Kreynborg took her to rocket-ship," came the answer. "She recovered consciousness before being carried inside."
"I haff seen many weapons. I am a scientist! You play der game of poker. You try a bluff! But I answer you with der heat-ray!" He moved his great bulk, and Thorn released his left hand. There was a sudden crack on Kreynborg's side of the room. A pebble a little over an inch in diameter fell to the floor. Kreynborg wavered, and toppled and fell.
Kreynborg threw the switch back again. "Der screen is on," he chuckled. "Console each other, children. I am glad you came, Thorn Hardt. We watch der grand refiew of der Com-Pub fleet. Then I turn a little infention of mine upon you. It is a heat-ray of fery limited range. It will be my method of wooing der fair Sylva.
I think you hear me. Answer me. I haff an offer to make." Shivering, Sylva pressed close to Thorn. "Der Com-Pub fleet is on der way," said Kreynborg, chuckling. "Sefen-eights of der United Nations fleet is just outside. You haff observed it. In six hours der Com-Pub fleet begins der conquest of der country and der execution of persons most antagonistic to our regime.
Five thousand men, in a thousand grounded aircraft, shouted curses that made no sound. They waved weapons that were utterly futile. They were as impotent as so many ghosts. Their voices made not even the half-heard whisper one may attribute to a phantom. The fog-vapor closed over Thorn and Sylva as Kreynborg grinned mockingly at the raging men without the dome of force.
The television lenses on the tower would have picked him out in any case, if Kreynborg had repaired the screen. He went boldly up to the rocket-ship. "Kreynborg!" he called. "Kreynborg!" He felt himself being surveyed. A door came open. Kreynborg stood chuckling at him with a pocket-gun in his hand. "Ha! Just in time, my friend! I haff been fery busy.
And Thorn Hard and Sylva were still hunted fugitives inside the inner dome. The sun was an hour high when the helicopter appeared to hunt for them by day. After the first time they had never dared light a fire, because Kreynborg in the helicopter searched the hills for a glow of light. But this day he came searching for them by day.
Whatever else Kreynborg might be willing to destroy, he would not shoot into them! Thorn leaped madly past the door as Kreynborg roared with rage again. He paused only to hurl a chair at the two essential machines, and as they dented and toppled, he fled through the door and away. Sylva peered anxiously at him from behind a huge boulder.
He swept the helicopter to a position above the last view of Thorn and Sylva, and the downward-beating screws swept away the foggy gas. Thorn and Sylva lay motionless, though Thorn had instinctively placed himself in a position of defense above her. The Fighting Force of the United Nations watched, raging, while Kreynborg descended deliberately into the area the helicopter-screws kept clear.
A sudden surge of flying craft appeared on the television screen. The grounded fleet of the United Nations was taking to the air again. In the narrow, two-mile strip between the two domes of force it swirled up and up.... Kreynborg frowned. "Now, what is der idea of that?" he demanded. He moved closer to the screen. The pocket-gun was left behind, five feet from his finger-tips.
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