He raced back to the communications room and pressed the switches on the small television set with which he and Tanner used to communicate with Mr. Ainsworth on the Thuscan flag ship. Avis had mentioned that her own fleet was standing by. A small fleet perhaps, but certainly not one without possibilities. He waited a moment for the tubes to warm up, then dialed the frequency Avis had once mentioned. There was a pause and the screen grew bright. A face wavered on it for a moment and then grew steady. It was the face of a middle-aged man dressed in a dull blue uniform. His eyes looked like they had seen all there was to see of both heaven and hell. Stan explained the situation urgently. The face nodded acceptance of what had happened. "Can you get out of the city?" The sounds outside were a steady roar now. Stan hesitated a moment, then said yes. "We'll try to pick you up. Take the main artery out of the city to the small wooded park." "What are you going to do?" The lines in the man's face deepened. "Outside of pick you up, there's nothing we can do." Stan flicked off the switch and started for the door. So there was nothing they could do. Nothing they could do to save a world or to save Avis. Well, that remained to be seen. * * * * * He opened the street door and was almost swept into the tightly packed, fast moving throng. He stepped back into the doorway for a moment, letting the fighting, struggling mob sweep by. A father held a squawling baby high above his head. A woman was crying, hugging a small bundle of clothes to her as she struggled on. Suddenly she slipped and fainted and slid beneath the thousand feet of the mob. Stan didn't see her reappear. He closed the door and ran to the back. The alley was crowded but not nearly so packed as the street. Perhaps half an hour had passed since Tanner had appeared in the hoop, he thought. He had five and a half hours to go before the bombs started dropping. His back pained him and he could feel the blood start to well where he had been shot. He grimaced and struggled on. A man next to him was lugging a small, portable radio and Stan could hear the frightened announcer reading off the government's mobilization orders and exhortations to remain calm. They were useless, Stan thought bitterly. They could have no more effect on the tidal waves of humanity leaving its cities than Xerxes had on the ocean, when he had ordered it to be whipped. Humanity was leaving its huddling places and there was nothing that could stop them. An hour later and he made two miles through the packed outskirts of the city. The crowd was thinning now and he thought he could make out the wooded sections of the park, not more than three or four blocks ahead. It couldn't be too much longer, he thought. He wasn't sure of how much more he could take....