red. But the attack came on.

Now all the great defensive cones burst into an emerald blaze as the
smaller ships loosed their bolts. And from the terraced slope of the
supporting fleet a hundred steel ovoids lumbered forward to meet the
threat. All the vast space between the hosts, mountain-high from the
sea's surface, was filled with dazzling light, now green, now orange,
as the conflicting beams crossed and mingled. There were gaps in the
advancing curtain that did not fill, but the defending cones were
melting away, were disappearing, were gone.

"Flight ZLX prepare for action!" Dane's eyes flicked over the gages,
checking in routine precaution. He started when he saw the V of the
chronometer's hands. Only six minutes had passed since the battle's
start--it seemed hours. And already the reserve was being called on!
He was suddenly cold. Out there, over the bay, the enemy forces had
ceased their advance. The American first line cones were gone--true
enough, but the support fleet was still intact. Some new element had
entered the battle, visible as yet only in the _Washington's_ powerful
television view-screens. The flight adjutant's voice again snapped a
command:

"Direction vertical. Thirty thousand feet. Full speed. Go!"

Dane jerked home his throttle. The battle shot down, and his seat
thrust up against him. Something hurtled past, blurred by the speed of
its descent. The plane rocked to a sudden detonation, and Allan fought
to steady it. Then he had reached the commanded height. At sixty
thousand feet the helio vanes were useless, only the power of the
auxiliary rocket-tubes maintained his altitude.

"Formation B. Engage the enemy!" came the order.

* * * * *

They were just ahead, a dozen giant craft, torpedo-shaped and
steel-incased, the scarlet fire of their gas blasts holding them
poised steady in their fifty-mile-long line. From curious swellings
that broke the clean lines of their under-bodies black spheres were
dropping in steady streams. Allan knew then whence came the crash that
had rocked his ship as she rose. These were bombs, huge bombs,
charged with heaven alone knew what Earth-shaking explosive. They were
catapulting down, an iron death hail, on the fleet and the city twelve
miles below!

The enemy's strategy was clear. While his main fleet was engaging the
American defense in a frontal attack, these huge rocket-bombers had
looped unseen through the stratosphe