ooks bad, but we'll stop without a jar."

And they did. Weightless and without inertia, gravitation powerless
against her neutralizing generators, the great 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 and gravitation allowed again to affect
her mass, 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 air-locks 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 should have neutralized
inertia first, but I had no idea that the fields would extend beyond the
hull, nor that they wouldn't act simultaneously. We'll take her out on
the projectors this time, though, the same as we brought her in--she
handles like a bicycle. The projector blast tears things up a little,
but nothing serious. Have you got that Pittsburgh beam for me yet? We're
about ready to go."

"Here it is, Doctor Rodebush," came the secretary's voice, and upon the
screen there flashed into being the view of the events transpiring above
that doomed city. "The dock is empty and sealed against your blast," and
thereupon "Good-bye, and power