from the European continent. “The Chamber is gone. Undeniably gone.”

A new pattern of bomb-bursts came from above. “Chicago must be destroyed by now,” said the President harshly. He pointed to a blacked-out area on the ground-glass screen above. “There are no detector tubes left above us. But look⁠—orange lights. Thousands of them coming from the sea on the Maryland coast. And look there, to the right. One⁠—two⁠—fifteen thousand bombers coming!”

Hoshawk nodded as if he had known it all the time. “Sure. He has men in those planes. Live men who can observe and act independently. He’s throwing hundreds of thousands of planes and submarine tractors and mobile bomb-throwers at us⁠—all operated by men. And Forgacs himself is here, leading them. We’re whipped, Sire! Where is your civilization now?”

Wadsworth was calm. He was taking it like a man, anyway. He threw a lever and poised at the great keyboard, then his mutant fingers began to work in blurred movement.

Hoshawk watched the screen above. The Atlantic filled with long trains of red lights that arose from their American bases and streamed eastward.

Hoshawk blinked. “You’re firing everything. And you’ve locked the controls.”

Wadsworth didn’t look up. “In five minutes,” he said, “there won’t be an ounce of explosive left in any emplacement in America.”

“But that’s⁠—” Hoshawk started to say “foolish,” but he changed it. “That won’t help, Sire. Forgacs’ equipment is all over here, now.”

But Wadsworth leaned back. Their golden explosive screen showed no longer on the Map. Already some of the emplacements had ceased to