They entered the compartment, Watson took his seat beside the Geos, while the soldier sat forward next to the control elements. He laid his hands on certain levers; next instant, the machine was gliding noiselessly over the mosaic, on to a short incline and thence, with ever increasing speed, toward and through the open side of the room. The slides had all been thrown back; the compartment was enclosed only in glass. Watson could get a clear view, and he was amazed at the speed of the craft. Before he could think they were out in mid-air and ascending skyward. Travelling on a steep slant, there was no vibration, no mechanical noise; scarcely the suggestion of movement, except for the muffled swish of the air. Were it not for the receding city below him, Chick could have imagined himself sitting in a house while a windstorm tore by. He felt no change in temperature or any other ill effects; the cabin was fully enclosed, and heated by some invisible means. In short, ideal flight: for instance, the seats were swung on gimbals, so that no matter at what angle the craft might fly, the passengers would maintain level positions. Below stretched the Mahovisal--a mighty city of domes and plazas, and, widely scattered, a few minarets. At the southern end there was a vast, square plaza, covering thousands of acres. Toward it, on two sides, converged scores of streets; they stretched away from it like the ribs of a giant fan. On the remaining two sides there was a tremendously large building with a V-shaped front, opening on the square. The play of opal light on its many-bubbled roof resembled the glimmer from a vast pearl. In the air above the city an uncountable number of very small objects darted hither and thither like sparkling fireflies. It was difficult to realise that they, too, were aircraft. To the west lay an immense expanse of silver, melting smoothly into the horizon. Watson took it to be the Thomahlian ocean. Then he looked up at the sky directly above him, and breathed a quick exclamation. It was a single, small object, perfectly white, dropping out of the amethyst. Tiny at first, amost instantly it assumed a proportion nearly colossal--a great bird, white as the breast of the snowdrift, swooping with the grace of the eagle and the speed of the wind. It was so very large that it seemed, to Chick, that if all the other birds he had ever known were gathered together into one they would still be as the swallow. Down, down it came in a tremendous spiral, until it gracefully alighted in a splash of molten colour on the bosom of the silver sea. For a moment it was lost in a shower of water jewels--and then lay still, a swan upon the ocean. “What is it, Geos?” “The Kospian Limited, my lord. One of our great airships--a fast one, we consider it.” “It must accommodate a good many people, Rhamda.” “About nine thousand.” “You say it comes from Kospia. How far away is that?”