After Worlds Collide (When Worlds Collide 2)

A swift car from the north gate brought news of the danger.

Arms were taken from racks, and at vantage-points near the gates, men and women—some still carrying hastily snatched bits of food—took their posts.

The plane, meanwhile, had reached the dome of the city. It did not fly over, however. It did not drop bombs, or a message. Instead, it circled twice to lose altitude, and from a hatch in its fuselage a white flag was run up on a miniature mast.

Then it landed.

By the time it touched the ground, more than two hundred persons were on hand to see. The transparent cover of their city gave them a feeling of security. However, the flag of truce upon the plane did not encourage them to any careless maneuver.

The ship was expertly brought down to the ground, but afterward it behaved badly. It slewed and skidded. Its engine died and then picked up as it started to taxi toward the gate. It did not cover the intervening stretch of ground. Instead, it lurched crazily, hit a rock, smashed a wheel, dragged a wing—and its motor was cut. Then, half wrecked, it stopped.

There it stood, like a bird shot down, for five full minutes. No one moved inside it. No one made an effort

to descend.

By that time every one in the city had rushed to its edge.

Tony gathered his lieutenants and advisers together.

“Ruse to get the gate open,” Williams said.

“I think so,” Tony agreed.

They waited.

Dodson, standing near Tony, murmured: “The Trojan-horse gag.”

Tony nodded.…

Ten minutes.

“Let me go out there,” Jack Taylor said finally. “Just open one gate a crack. They can’t get a wedge in at that distance. It’s some sort of booby trap—but I’ll spring it.”

Tony said no. They sat.

A thought moved through the mind of Eliot James. He went to Tony. “It might be Von Beitz. He might be hurt—”

Tony lifted a pair of powerful glasses to his eye. He saw several areas of holes on the plane’s side. Machine-gun bullet-holes.

“Open the gate a crack—and lock it behind me,” he commanded. He stalked to the portal. It yawned for an instant. He went out. Jack Taylor, winking at the men who manipulated the gate, followed close behind Tony.

Tony turned after the gate clanged, and saw Jack. He grinned. The people inside the city who watched, were deeply moved. Tony’s decision to accept the danger—Jack’s pursuit of his leader into peril—those were the things of which the saga of Hendron’s hundreds were made.

They went cautiously toward the broken ship. No sound came from it. They were ready to throw themselves to the earth at the first stirring.

There was none.

The crowd watching held its breath. The two men were under the shattered wing.… Now they were climbing the fuselage.

Tony looked cautiously through a window.

Inside the plane, alone, on its floor, in a pool of blood, lay Von Beitz.

Tony yanked the door open. Taylor followed him inside.

Von Beitz was badly wounded, but still breathing. They lifted him a little. He opened his eyes. A stern smile came upon his Teutonic face.

“Good!” he mumbled. “I escaped. They have the power city. They plan to cut you off as soon as it is cold enough to freeze you to terms. I do not know where the power city is—it is not like the other cities.”