The glowing "teardrops" appeared a little over a week later. They were so called because of their shape, but the Jovians knew as little about their nature as did their guests. They appeared early one murky morning, as Kass, Sine and Lents sat at breakfast with Governor Nikkia. The servants, comely, characterless specimens of the Second Race who held themselves snobbishly above their fellows, came panic-stricken; "Your Supremacy!" called one, making a low obeisance. "There are strange lights hanging over the palace!" Nikkia brushed the slight fellow aside, dashed up a stairway to a terrace on the roof, closely followed by his guests. In a few moments they were all soaked by the warm downpour as they stood on the terrace, like an island in a sea of brown fog. There were three of them, roughly egg-shaped, but with an elongated tail. More like tadpoles, save that the tail was rigid and emitted a fiery streak. Obviously they were propelled by a new adaptation of the old rocket principle. They swam back and forth slowly, as if questing for something, leisurely selecting their victims. The strangest thing about them, however, was the light. A brilliant red, almost pink, like the glow of a neon tube, it penetrated the fog. Its pulsations even penetrated brain and body, so that the watchers became unpleasantly conscious of it. Nikkia, watching tensely, turned suddenly on his guests; "Damned funny! Barely you show up, and now this! I don't like it. Are they from the Earth?" Lents swelled in slow and ponderous anger. "Do you think, sir, that we are of the sort to abuse your hospitality by spying on you? We don't know any more about those things than you do!" "Damned funny!" Nikkia repeated to himself. "Wonder if there's any of _them_ left?" "Your Supremacy!" a servant interrupted. "Call from the war office!" He was carrying a drum-like contrivance, carried on a stand, and set it down in front of the governor. "Well?" Nikkia snapped impatiently. The screen which formed the drumhead glowed into life. A Jovian officer, looking exceedingly efficient and warlike in his armor uniform, stood at salute, which Nikkia returned impatiently. "Who are those flyers, Sonta?" the governor snapped. "I don't know, Your Supremacy," the officer growled. "They fail to answer our challenge, and none of the men have seen anything like them." "Then why don't you turn the heat on them?" "We have. Our heat-rays have no effect on them. That pinkish light is a reflector wave of some sort. Several of our beam projectors were burnt up by the kick-back." "Ram 'em then! Ram 'em! Sacred Ganymede! Is our Defense Service degenerating into a crew of Mugs?" * * * * * The officer's image on the screen was seen to flush, to draw itself up resentfully. "We have sent ships up to ram them, Your Supremacy. Three of them have been destroyed." "I was watching. I saw nothing."