"That's no bomb," Foster said. "It's not falling; it's coming down slowly ... like a——"
"Like a slowly falling bomb," I said. "And it's coming right down on top of us. Goodbye, Foster. I can't claim it's been fun knowing you, but it's been different. We'll feel the heat at any second now. I hope it's fast."
The glaring disc was the size of the full moon now, unbearably bright. It lit the plain like a pale blue sun. There was no sound. As it dropped lower, the disc foreshortened and I could see a dark shape above it, dimly lit by the glare thrown back from the ground.
"The thing is the size of a ferry boat," I said.
"It's going to miss us," Foster said. "It will come to ground several hundred feet to the east of us."
We watched the slender shape float down with dreamlike slowness, now five hundred feet above, now three hundred, then hovering just above the giant stones.
"It's coming down smack on top of Stonehenge," I yelled.
We watched as the vessel settled into place dead center on the ancient ring of stones. For a moment they were vividly silhouetted against the flood of blue radiance; then abruptly, the glare faded and died.
"Foster," I said. "Do you think it's barely possible——"
A slit of yellow light appeared on the side of the hull, then it widened to a square. A ladder extended itself, dropping down to touch the ground.