Governments watched, frightened at the scene and realized what must be waiting out in space. Huge planes that had been winging over arctic wastes and across vast stretches of sea suddenly got crackling messages that forced them to turn abruptly in their courses and head for the nearest air field--whether it was friend or late enemy. Far out in space, the void was filled with hulled ships and flaring rockets that suddenly mushroomed into gigantic explosions. Down below, Stan drove the Thuscan ship around the world and then towards Europe again. He finally forced it to crashland in the Tiergarten in evacuated Berlin. * * * * * His own ship landed a block away. The dazed officers in the compartment looked at him for guidance and he realized that he was still the leader, that they still didn't quite know what to do. "You'll go out that airlock and you'll fight them," he said crisply. "Hand to hand, if you have to. But you'll have to fight them--and to kill them." He strode to the airlock. "Good luck!" There was no motion about the other rocket and he thought for a frightening moment that everybody on board had been killed. Then he realized that they were waiting for him to make a move, to show himself for an easy target. He found a hiding place behind a bit of rubble and adjusted the stud on his heat gun. They weren't going to stay in their ship long, he thought. He would _make_ them come out. He turned the stud to high and aimed the gun at a port near the control room. The crystal in the port colored, glowed, and suddenly fused. Stan could dimly make out the control console and flashed his heater at that. The violet beam touched the controls and they turned red and fused. Then the beam caught a thin fuel line in the console and there was a sudden spurt of white heat. Seconds later, the fuel tanks erupted with a roar that showered bits of red hot metal over the whole area. A moment more, he thought.... The air about him was suddenly thick with lancing, violet beams and he felt one touch him lightly on the shoulder, crisping the flesh and setting his shirt on fire. He winced and beat out the flames, keeping an eye on the hatch. Then the hatch flew open and figures boiled out. The slaughter was brief, and very thorough. But of all the creatures that boiled out of the hatch, Stan didn't see the two he was looking for. When it was all over, he walked out to the field and glanced at the bodies. There were none that looked like Tanner or--thank God--Avis. He was touching one body gingerly with his foot when the young pilot ran up to him. "There was no action on the other side of the ship, was there, sir?" "No. Why?" "One of the ports, sir--fused. And there were no flames near it!"