Matt cursed viciously and caught his balance to stagger into the messroom. Isaac Trigg, the director, was there, and Pendergrast. They sat tense as violin strings, waiting. "I couldn't stand it in the control room," Trigg explained to Matt. "They're guiding us down with radar. There's been no radio beam to lead us in. What the hell's wrong? You'd think Earth was a tomb!" "Where are we?" Matt asked as he flung himself in a chair. The director shook his head. "Some place in North America, the Ohio valley, I believe. But the clouds shut us off before the navigator could take accurate shots." The loud speaker blared into sudden life, the first time since the Silence! The men jumped to their feet, thinking that at last contact had been established with Earth. Then they realized that it was the captain speaking over the intercommunicator. Matt cursed again, then paused. "_Attention!_" the loud speaker blared. "_Attention, everyone. We are descending in very hilly country. The radar reveals an irregular surface beneath us. Please secure yourselves in your seats. Be sure to fasten the safety straps._" "Hilly country!" said Matt and buckled his safety strap. "But where?" Most of the others straggled into their seats. There was no conversation. Their faces were strained and white. "_Four thousand feet!_" came the captain's voice over the broadcaster. "_Visibility zero. Check your safety belts._" Matt was conscious of a nervous rustle in the messroom. He realized that he was biting his lip. The _Argus_ lurched, fell another hundred feet and brought up with a stuttering roar from her tubes. The business of landing a rocket ship without a beam was nasty and uncertain. Matt could feel his heart pumping almost in his mouth. He looked about for Lynn and found her three seats off. She gave him a wan grin, but blanched as the _Argus_ rolled sickeningly. "_Three thousand feet!_" came the voice through the loud speaker. "_Clouds and rain._" An eternity went by. At a thousand feet the suspense made Matt ill. The jets were striking the surface now, bouncing back, dispelling the clouds directly beneath them. "_Wooded hills below_," said the loud speaker. "_Five hundred feet!_" Again the minutes crawled away. There was a faint jar, then a settling lurch. It was almost unexpected when it came. The jets fell silent. Earth! Matt found himself looking around at the strained faces. Hesitantly, he threw off his straps and stood up. Others followed suit. None of them, Matt realized, was anxious to be the first out. It was a strange homecoming--certainly nothing like the one they had all planned before the silence! "Well," said Matt, "someone's got to be first." He made his way to the main port. Silent, and uneasy, they all trooped after him. "What the hell!" said Matt with a sudden grin. He spat on his hands and began to unscrew the bolts. There was a collective sigh from those behind as he kicked open the heavy port.