moment later, a slight
jar was felt through the entire structure--it had slid from the man-made
mound, to crash on the ground below. Memory of that sight made a sober
return to the interior.

Before they dared rest, metal sheets were carried to the opening and
blocked in place. Then dome men welded them to the solid metal. They
didn't want to see any of those creatures in the cities!

Twelve hours had passed by the time the opening was sealed, and the
earthmen dragged their tired forms through the maze of supports for the
last time.

They were almost asleep before they could reach their own apartments,
and tumble onto comfortable beds. They had conquered the first problem.

Dick was awakened by an excited man, talking faster than he could
understand the new language. When he grasped what the other was saying,
he leaped from bed wide awake.

_Every dome had been attacked!!!_ The caterpillars were pounding many
spots on each one. They seemed to be trying to get at the creatures that
had destroyed one of their number.

* * * * *

In that moment Dick felt like an old man. He thought of the space ship;
the only way of attacking from the outside, and gave that up. There
wasn't enough fuel to handle it, and the blasts might injure the metal
domes. His mind searched frantically for some way of fighting _all_ of
the creatures--and knew it couldn't be done.

He was racing across the open ground, while thousands of people gazed at
the banging overhead. Suddenly he stopped, then turned back toward his
apartment, running just as hard. There was a system of communication
between the domes--that _sometimes_ worked! It was not efficient, but if
he could get in touch with the others immediately, there was _one_
chance!

He tried frantically to get a connection, but it wasn't until one of the
natives helped with the intricate system of signals, that he heard the
voice of Andrew Smith. A few moments later Philip Jones answered, then
Jerold Brown and Peter Yarbro. Each man was given quick, yet explicit,
instruction.

When Dick turned away from the phone, John McCarthy entered the room,
followed by George Martin. The noise in the city had finally aroused
them from their slumber.

John started to smile, but the expression on Barrow's face drove all
thought of greeting away.

"_What is it?_ I thought the people were doing a day's work--but
_you_----!!!" His face turned ashen as he ran to the balc