On the night of the 26th came the crisis for mankind. For it was known that all man's efforts to halt the menace from above had failed, that mankind lay defenseless beneath the grim and terrible invaders from beyond, who might at any time loose even greater horrors upon us. Man had fought an enemy he had never even seen and had lost! He had fought an enemy who apparently cared no more for the wrecking of mankind far beneath than we do of the insects beneath our feet! Victory? Through the hours of that dread night I sat with Dr. Howard and with the last of our remaining organization in the Washington office. Outside, to the east the sky was red with the glow of flames, where a mob had set fire to looted buildings. From afar we heard the crackle of shots, the rumble of hurrying tanks, and the wild uproar of cries as troops sought to bring order out of the chaos of a dissolving civilization. We were silent, in a silence that made each minute age-long. And it was there, silent, almost toward morning, that the last messenger of mankind's hope found us. He was a dishevelled young radio operator and it was some moments before we comprehended what he was babbling frantically forth to us. When we did, twenty minutes saw us in the air and speeding southward through the night with an army aviator. Over the fear-mad, riot-blazing city and through the night out over other cities we sped, at the plane's utmost velocity, Dr. Howard peering ahead with face set, I gripping the cockpit's rim with nervous, trembling fingers. We were still speechless as our plane raced southward. It was not until dawn was streaking the sky eastward that the plane bumped down into a field a few miles from a little Georgia village. We found men awaiting us, in uniform and civilian clothes, and all were half-hopeful, half-awed. Swiftly they told us what had happened. Shortly after midnight citizens near the village had heard a faint, almost inaudible but clear sound of detonation, coming as though from far above. Almost in the next instant had come another detonating sound, as faint as the first, and then silence. But a few instants later, coming from the west of the village, they heard in quick succession two terrific prolonged crashings as of some thing or things falling from an immense height. They had thought the trawl was descending on them, at first, and had fled from it for some distance. But after moments of hesitation they had made their way to the scene of the crashes, and what they found had made them get word quickly to the soldiers in a near-by town, whose first act had been to radio Dr. Howard.