Jeter's mind went back to Kress. Frozen solid ... but that could have been caused by his downward plunge through space. And what had happened to Kress' plane? No word had been received concerning it up to the time of the Jeter-Eyer departure. Had the "enemy" taken possession of it?
The whole thing seemed absurd. Nobody knew better than Jeter that he was working literally and figuratively in the dark. He was doing little better than guessing. He felt sure of but one thing, that the agency which was wreaking the havoc was a human one, and he was perfectly willing to match his wits and Eyer's against any human intelligence.
Jeter slipped into the cushioned seat beside Eyer.
The altimeter registered fifteen thousand feet. New York was just a blur against the abysmal darkness under their careening wings.
"You've never ventured an opinion, Tema," said Jeter softly, "even to me."
Eyer grinned.
"Who knows?" he said. "It may all be just the very latest thing in aerial attack. If so, what country or coalition of countries harbor designs against our good Uncle Sam? Japan? China?"
"How do you explain the Vandercook incident? The bridge thing? The rise and fall of the other skyscrapers?"
"Some substance or ray capable of being controlled and directed. It creates a field, of any size desired, in which gravitation is—well, shall we say erased? Then any solid which is thus made weightless could be lifted by the two good hands of a strong man, or even of a weak one. How does that check with your guessing?"
Jeter shook his head ruefully.