She stooped over the projector and fumbled with the mechanism.
Don gasped, “Those apparitions—is that what you’re going to attack?”
“Yes—attack them!”
The beam flashed on. But it was a different beam now. Fainter, more tenuous; the hum from it was different.
It leaped into the ground. It was a spreading beam this time. It bathed the white apparitions who were peering up at the city.
Why, what was this? Weird, fantastic sight! There was a moment of Tolla’s frenzied madness; then she staggered away from the projector. But Don and I had caught the secret. We took her place. We carried it on.
We were hardly aware that the far-off warships had ceased firing. We hardly realized that Tolla had rushed for the parapet; climbed, screaming and laughing—and that Jane tried to stop her.
“Oh, Tolla, don’t—”
But Tolla toppled and fell…. Her body was almost not recognized when it was later found down in the ruins.
Don and I flung this new beam into the night. We rolled the projector around the platform, hurling the beam in every direction at the white apparitions….