From this greater height, within the oval other lights showed, far down on the snow. Tiny moving spots of vivid color. The enemy's encampment. Davis was now at least at the twenty thousand foot level. Robinson was still higher. In that deadly cold it seemed incredible; but still they struggled up. At this height the crimson barrage was thin; once, overhead, I seemed to see where it ended. The whine of it was fainter, but every gruesome undertone still sounded clear. "He's trying it!" The man beside me blurted it aloud. Startled movement sounded in the room; a chair pushed back with a rasp; tense murmurs; shuffling feet. We stared. Robinson's plane darted in-- There was just an instant when I thought it was safely through. I could see it clearly--the black outline of a bird stained crimson. It seemed to hang motionless; then it fluttered; falling--and as it fell, like a mist of black vapor it suddenly expanded; a black wraith of a plane expanding, dissipating. It did not seem to reach the ground. It was gone, dissolved into nothing visible, with only a howling, mouthing sound from the crimson monster to mark its passing! A shiver swept me; I was cold, trembling. I heard some one near me cry in horror: "Davis, he's--" and check himself. The screen was a blur of crimson, with lurid spots of light on the ground showing through it. Davis was heading downward in a swoop through the red beam! It spread until the whole image before us was a crimson stain. The lights on the ground seemed coming up, leaping up, growing in size as the plane dived at them. The room was a chaos of gruesome tiny screams! We were in the crimson! It snapped with a myriad sparks. It howled, squealed, screamed! An instant, but it seemed an eternity. Then the red vanished. We were through it! By Heaven, through it! Safely through! Diving at the ground! I saw that one of the spots of light had broadened to a green ghastly glare on the snow-surface. Figures of men in human form standing there, fore-shortened by the overhead perspective to huge heads and dwindling bodies. Human forms; men of almost naked bodies, standing in the snow, bodies painted green by the glare. Apparatus of war erected in the snow--a bare spot where the snow was gone, and rock and earth showed clean--a shimmer that seemed a pool of water lying warm with ice around it. A glimpse--no more than a second or two undoubtedly. Then the scene, rushing upward, was fading. The confusion of sounds and blurred lights suddenly grew faint--faded--vanished into darkness and silence! The tel-vision screen was dead--a blank silver surface staring at us like a corpse. The audiphone was mute. Davis's plane had vanished like its fellow into nothingness before it reached the ground!