like an ordinary telephone, but was connected to a box with dials and
switches. There was a miniature pocket radio--a transistor radio--on
top of the short wave cabinet. Lockley picked up the short wave
microphone. He identified himself. He said he'd come to make sure of
Jill's safety, and that he'd been passed by the rushing mass of cars
and trucks that had evacuated everybody else. Then he said, "I've got
a car about four miles away. It's in a ditch, but I can probably get
it out. It'll be a lot safer for Miss Holmes if you send a helicopter
there to pick her up."

The reply was somehow military in tone. It sounded like a civilian
being authoritative about something he knew nothing about. Lockley
said, "Over" in a dry tone and put down the microphone. He picked up
the pocket radio and put it in his pocket. It might be useful.

"They say to try to make it out in my car," he told Jill wryly. "As
civilians, I suppose they haven't any helicopters they can give orders
to. But it probably makes sense. If there are some queer creatures
around, there's no point in stirring them up with a flying contraption
banging around near their landing place. Not before we're ready to
take real action. Come along. I've got to get you away from here."

"But I'm waiting...." She looked distressed. "He wanted me to leave
yesterday. We almost quarrelled about it. He'll surely come to make
sure I'm safe...."

"I'm afraid I have bad news," said Lockley. Then he described, as
gently as he could, his last talk with Vale. It was the one which
ended with squeaks and strugglings transmitted by the communicator,
and then the smashing of the communicator itself. He didn't mention