"Well, Windy," he addressed the space man defiantly, "I see that the art of bragging isn't strictly confined to Earth. Thanks for the information anyway. I might be able to use it some day."
The effect was amazing.
The purple face blanched to powder blue. The owner spouted a stream of his native language that sounded to Eberly like nothing recognizable and threw up his hands in resignation.
Only five ships out at a time, Eberly thought as two hefty space men prodded him back toward the air-lock. All but a few of the invaders huddled together in a single city that could be utterly destroyed by the blast of one atomic bomb. Such a blast would also destroy the great radiation generators that held Earthmen in sway and the few remaining invaders would soon be overcome or driven away. And he was walking around with the only fuel for such a weapon in his stomach!
They were crowding him into the air-lock now. What were they going to do? Not turn him loose. Dump him into space?
A moment later, he knew. In only a few minutes they had come all the way from America to Africa! These men from space had science, all right. They must have learned how to overcome inertia somehow without giving the sensation of change in motion. He hadn't been aware of the slightest motion, yet he saw their city as soon as the outer seal of the lock opened and there was no mistaking that city.
He was out of the ship and onto the rubbery surface of a street, being hurried, pushed along it toward some unknown destination. His captors bullied him along between tall, smooth buildings that seemed to be constructed of solid expanses of plastic, broken only by the unrevealing doors and windows.