"I can't believe that of Denny!" flashed Art. "Space madness attacks those who can't stand the solitude, exposure and utter loneliness of that awful void. You know that Denny always laughed at those things. He was iron. And I don't believe he's getting old, either. The last time I saw him, he was in his prime."
A hot argument was averted only by the flashing of signals at one side of the room, which announced a televisor communication. Elene was nearest and flipped the switch. The face of a middle-aged man, tense with suppressed excitement, appeared on the screen. He scanned their faces closely. It was Haight, of the British Foundation.
"Theller—Douglas—all of you!" he blurted. "Listen! I've just found—oh, but what fools we were not to see! Those organisms—they're—but I can't possibly tell you over the air. I'll be there as fast as a strato-ship can take me. I'm bursting to tell someone. There's not a soul here in the lab; it's very late. Expect me in three hours, at the most." The screen went black.
Art and Elene were on the roof of the laboratory, enjoying the soft summer evening, and talking over this new turn of events. The city was quiet around them. New hope seemed to blaze within them with the brilliance of the countless stars overhead. Perhaps Haight's discovery meant the turning of the tide in this losing struggle in which they had been participating. Art felt that he could relax for the first time since that heartbreaking week had begun. As his fatigue fell away, he felt a great longing come over him. How near he had come to losing this lovely woman by his side. All those years of dull routine in the lab, near her every day, yet doing nothing about it! But Art had changed to a man of action, through sheer necessity, and he wore his new personality with heady exuberance. He took the girl in his arms.
"Darling, life is very good," he murmured. "I don't want us to die. I don't want to be pushed off this lovable old earth of ours by an alien form of life. And it's chiefly because of you. But we're not going to let that happen, are we? We're going to fight until every last hideous, ugly one of them is gone."
"Yes, sweet," she sighed contentedly, "And Art, please—when it's all over—let's not just sink back into the old way of life again. I think our love will be able to stand even that test from now on—but let's not put it to that test. Can't we get out of Interplanetary, travel, open up new worlds, just anything like that?"
"I have a hunch that from now on we're going to require plenty of danger in our everyday life," he laughed. "After we're married—"
A shrill whine interrupted them, and they broke apart. Far out in the midnight sky, hours had slipped away like so many minutes, and Haight was arriving. He had been hurling his ship along at a reckless speed and was braking only at the last minute. Now they could see the dark shape arching down toward the laboratory. Suddenly it seemed to stop, to poise in midair. Then it dissolved into a blinding white flash. The deafening roar of the explosion came seconds later. Art and Elene looked at each other in mute horror and despair, amid a great silence broken only by tiny, distant sounds as the fragments of Haight and his ship rained down gently on the city of Washington.
"We'll keep fighting," Art finally said in a dull voice.