The sky was bright as day over in the direction of the golf course. Don made out a pinpoint of brighter light. "It's a star shell," he said. "A flare." They went to the window and leaned out, looking past a corner of the bubble gum factory. "What's it for?" Jen asked. Don pointed. "There. That's what for." "A blimp!" she said. "It's landing!" "Is it an Air Force job? I can't make out the markings." "I think I can," Jen said. "They're--PP." "Private Pilots! Senator Bobby the Bold!" Jen Jervis clutched his arm. "S.O.B.!" she whispered fiercely. * * * * * Don Cort was down the rope fire escape and away from the mansion before it woke up to the invasion. As he crossed the railroad spur he had a glimpse of Jen Jervis hauling up the rope and of lights going on elsewhere in the building. There was a lot of whistle-blowing and shouting and a lone shot which didn't seem to be aimed at him. Don waited at the spur, behind a boxcar, to see how the Hectorites would react to the landing of the blimp, A few men gathered at the front gate and looked nervously into the sky and toward the golf course. Others joined them, armed with shotguns, pistols, and a rifle or two, but not with King Hector's paralysis gadget. It was clear that Hector had no intention of starting a battle. His men apparently were under orders only to guard the mansion and the bubble gum factory. No one even went to see what the blimp was up to. Don found as he neared the golf course that the people from the blimp apparently had no immediate plan to attack, either. He found a sand trap to lie down in. From it he could watch without being seen. The star shell had died out but he could see the blimp silhouetted against the sky. Men in battle dress were establishing a perimeter around the clubhouse. Each carried a weapon of some kind. It was all very dim. Don remembered his communicator. "Cort here," he said softly. "Do you read me?" "Affirmative," a voice said. Don didn't recognize it. He described the landing and asked, "Is this an authorized landing or is it Senator Thebold's private party?" "Negative," said the voice from the Pentagon, irritatingly GI. "Negative _what_?" Don said. "You mean Thebold _is_ leading it?" "Affirmative," said the voice. "What's he up to?" Don asked. "Negative," the voice said. Don blew up. "If you mean you don't know, why the hell don't you say so? Who is this, anyhow?" "This happens to be Major Johns, the O.O.D., Sergeant, and if you know what's good for you--" Don stopped listening because a man in battle dress, apparently attracted by his voice, was standing on the green, looking down into the bunker where Don lay, pointing a carbine at him. "I'll have to hang up now, Major," Don said quietly. "Something negative has just happened to me. I've been captured." The man with the carbine shouted down to Don, "Okay, come out with your hands over your head."