"The crash--"
"Hobbs has a broken arm, and I cracked a rib, I think. But the ship's
hull was tough."
Vanning stood up. His eyes was caught by the movement on the
visi-plate, which had incredibly survived the shock of landing. He
moved forward, bracing himself against the back of the pilot's chair.
The city of the Swamja lay spread beneath him. The ship had lodged
itself high on one of the towers, smashing its way into a sort of
cradle, and then rolling down till its bow faced north. In the distance
the jagged metal of the tube stood up forty feet above ground level.
The rest of it wasn't there, though gleaming, twisted plates of metal
lay here and there in the streets.
And through the avenues shapes were moving. They were the Swamja, and
they moved like automatons. They moved in one direction only--away from
the ship.
As far as Vanning could see the Swamja were pouring through their city.