I was laughing when Zetta gripped me, jerked off the glasses and my mask. "Peter, stop that! You are all right!" The cool night air steadied me. We were in the darkness, well beyond the barrage. It was a mile, perhaps, to the Control house. We followed the barrage line, creeping, running, taking advantage of every gully, every hillock. Garbed in black, we were doubtless not easy to see. There was no alarm given. The dawn was near. We got back through the barrage, inside the line again. A guard near the Control house came up to us. Fortunately he had not seen from which direction we came. He was less suspicious than the others; our masks, glasses and black garments were more to be expected here by the Control than elsewhere. Zetta told him we were from Graff. He sank soundlessly as my knife slashed at his throat. The two guards in the outer room were almost equally easy. But one screamed. The Control-keeper came out at us. My fist crushed his face. We were in the Control room! The crimson globe stood there murmuring. Diabolical thing! With my gloved hands I ripped at it; tore its wires; tumbled it down; kicked and wrecked it with a passionate frenzy. [Illustration: With my gloved hands I ripped at the wires of the diabolical crimson globe; and I kicked with passionate fury at the instrument of destruction.] "Enough, Peter! Here, help me with this." Zetta had been swiftly unfastening the inert purple globe. She gathered up its mechanism, handed it all to me. "Here--be ver' careful." It weighed only a few pounds. It seemed not unduly fragile, and I put it under my arm. We were outside again in a minute or two. No one accosted us this time; there seemed no one about but the three sprawled figures; one was twitching as he lay there. Again we ran. At the barrage I stuffed the globe under my jacket to protect it. When we were outside the red area I could feel the skin of my stomach and chest burning where the light had entered. But we were safe. We ran north, over the gray empty country. The barrage faded to a radiance in the distance behind us. A mile--two miles--I was on the verge of exhaustion. I could not run much further now. But I forced myself. If we could get far away before the dawn we would escape being seen. Then, rest. And by daylight, travel on. But what a distance! I figured that heading northeast was our best chance, but it might be a hundred miles or more before we encountered any one. The wrecked Control would be discovered by Graff. Pursuit would overtake us. Perhaps I had better send Zetta on ahead with this purple globe. Send her on to safety. To one side of us, up in the darkness, a shape suddenly took form. A small aero, flying low. An earth airplane! This could be no enemy! Zetta had been leaping ahead of me, waiting after each leap as I plowed my heavy way along. We stood together. I waved my arms.