Presumably the invaders had landed on the night of February 28. It had been snowing around New York City steadily for a week; but that night was clear. Reports said that a great silver ball had been seen floating down from the sky; later, from the ground, strange beams of colored light were seen, moving slowly southward. And strange sounds were heard. But the information was confused and unauthentic. This last blizzard had cut off all the New York area from the world. There was practically no transportation; no wires remained standing; no radio-sending stations were operating within all that region. How many people remained on Manhattan Island, no one could say. Very few, probably. A deserted, congealed city, snow-buried, with its huge buildings nothing now but giant monuments to a greatness which once had been. The cold was worse than scientists prognosticated. Nothing could get to New York now, save possibly dog-sleds, and the new type Arctic planes; and very few of those were available. War against the invaders from Xenephrene! Our government bulletins of the day had assured the public that these invaders would be held in check, attacked, held from moving further south, and very soon exterminated. What deaths to our people they had already caused, was not known. But it was evident that they were hostile; a plane carrying refugees had passed near their lights. Confused stories were told of melting, vanishing snow under red light; and stories of another refugee plane attacked and destroyed by red light and strange sound! Meaningless news! Yet terrible! The British Empire, from its capital in North Africa, offered us aid. They were building the Arctic planes. The French government from its headquarters in Tunis, preparing to move again south to the lower Sahara, radioed its desire to help. Argentina and Chile, harassed with their own problems in the new tropic heat, wanted to help if they could. Magnificent gestures, but they all meant very little. So far, nothing had been done. A few of our planes had ventured near New York; and none had so far been heard of since. Now, a huge Arctic plane, commanded by this Davis, equipped with modern aircraft artillery, with radio and a tel-vision image-finder, was making an experimental flight. A companion plane, flown by the famous Robinson, was with it. Robinson had the longest-range airplane gun of modern times; and he carried bombs. His purpose was to try and get above the enemy; and Davis, with his tel-vision and radio would report conditions as best he could. This attempt, then, was what now we were to witness. I have never been present at so dramatic a scene as this one which took place on the tel-vision mirror, and in the room around me.