"You saw it?" whispered Mariel in the darkness. "You saw it, David?"
"Yes. I saw it." Ingersoll breathed deeply, staring into the blackness, searching for a glimmer, a glint, some faint reassurance that it had not been a mirage they had seen. And then Ingersoll felt a hand in his, Tom Shandor's hand, gripping his tightly, wringing it, and when the lights snapped on again, he was staring at Shandor, tears of happiness streaming from his pale, tired eyes. "You saw it?" he whispered.
Shandor nodded, his heart suddenly too large for his chest, a peace settling down on him greater than any he had ever known in his life.
"They're coming," he said.
Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe December 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.