It landed atop the building itself. It was like a towering, silver spire there, as though to become an integral fixture to transform the sprawling Colossus from administrative nerve-center to the temple of empire. Doug's own ship beside it would have been as a sloop to a battleship. He knew that in a moment the main port of the flagship would open, and through it would be escorted the Prelate General himself. A half-million pairs of ears were tuned sharply to hear the voice of their God. And when it had thrown them into conflict here, the mighty ship would rise and vanish as it had come, to bear its high priest to the southwest, where the lesson would be read for the second and final time. * * * * * Doug tensed, knowing as he did from sleepless study what was to come. Suddenly, from well-concealed amplifiers through which the Prelate General's voice would soon sound, there were the first thunderous strains of The Battle Hymn To Peace. Doug whirled, faced Tayne. "Quadrants to salute!" Tayne pivoted. "Division leaders, give your divisions present arms!" A hundred cadets about-faced in turn, bawled in unison "_Regimental sachens, give your regiments present arms!_" And the command was passed in swelling unison from regiment to battalion, battalion to company, and the timing had been perfect. As the surging hymn of hysteria struck its climaxing strain, a cacophony of two thousand young voices swelled hysterically above it--"... PRE-SENT--_ARMS_!" There was a piercing shriek of sound as 500,000 broadswords whipped from their scabbards, glittered like the teeth of some Hell-spawned, pulsating monster as they flashed in salute. And Doug sickened. For he had seen it before, and only the sound had been different. There had been the resounding slap of taut rifle-slings against the wood of polished stocks.... The terrible music ended on a measure of rolling drums, and the command was relayed for order arms. There was the crash of a half-million blades slammed home in their scabbards as one, and then the silence fell as though some great impenetrable curtain had fallen. The Prelatinate General, borne in a highly-polished sedan chair of lightweight metal on the shoulders of the colorfully-uniformed members of the Inner Prelatinate, appeared in the pocket-like balcony which was dwarfed only by the immensity of the building itself. Visible only as a jewel-encrusted shadow behind the transparent metal enclosure in which he was ensconced, he began his speech. The two quadrants stood again as statues. "Once again, for the glory of the highest order of life and with the blessing of the Prelatinate Saints, we unite to do battle for the salvation of Man. May our mission be one of success." A great rolling murmur of sound swelled from the throats of the half-million, subsided.... The word was undistinguishable, but Doug knew what it was. They had said "_Amen._"