. But it never reached it. Suddenly, like a light switched off, it
shot to one side, and a moment later another vast hulk crashed to earth.
I looked out, then stepped out on the ground.

The only Han ships in the sky were two of the scouts to the south which
were hanging perpendicularly, and sagging slowly down. The others must
have crashed down while I was deafened by the sound of the explosion of
my own rockets.

Somebody hit the other repellor ray of one of the two remaining ships
and it fell out of sight beyond a hilltop. The other, farther away,
drifted down diagonally, its disintegrator ray playing viciously over
the ground below it.

I shouted with exultation and relief.

"Take back the command, Boss!" I yelled.

His commands, sending out jumpers in pursuit of the descending ship,
rang in my ears, but I paid no attention to them. I leaped back into the
compartment of the Han ship and knelt beside my Wilma. Her padded helmet
had absorbed much of the blow, I thought; otherwise, her skull might
have been fractured.

"Oh, my head!" she groaned, coming to as I lifted her gently in my arms
and strode out in the open with her. "We must have won, dearest, did
we?"

"We most certainly did," I reassured her. "All but one crashed and that
one is drifting down toward the south; we've captured this one we're in
intact. There was only one member of the crew aboard when we dove in."

[Illustration: As the American leaped, he swung his legs up in front of
him, catching the Han full in the stomach.]

Less than an hour afterward the Big Boss ordered the outfit to tune in
ultrophones on three-twenty-three to pick up a translated broadcast of
the Han intelligence office in Nu-yok from the Susquanna station. It
was in the form of a public warning and news item, and read as follows:

"This is Public Intelligence Office, Nu-yok, broadcasting warning to
navigators of private ships, and news of public interest. The squadron
of seven ships, which left Nu-yok this morning to investigate the recent
destruction of the GK-984 in the Wyoming Valley, has been destroyed by a
series of mysterious explosions similar to those which wrecked the
GK-984.

"The phones, viewplates, and all other signaling devices of five of the
seven ships ceased operating suddenly at approximately the same moment,
about seven-four-nine." (According to the Han system of reckoning time,
seven and forty-nine one hundredths after midnight.) "After violent
dis