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He became aware of three others rushing towards
him, aware of the urgent necessity of beating above
them. Aeroplanes were all about him, circling wildly
to avoid him, as it seemed. They drove past him,
above, below, eastward and westward. Far away to
the westward was the sound of a collision, and two
falling flares. Far away to the southward a second
squadron was coming. Steadily he beat upward.
Presently all the aeroplanes were below him, but for a
moment he doubted the height he had of them, and did
not swoop again. And then he came down upon a
second victim and all its load of soldiers saw him coming.
The big machine heeled and swayed as the fear maddened
men scrambled to the stern for their
weapons. A score of bullets sung through the air, and
there flashed a star in the thick glass wind-screen
that protected him. The aeroplane slowed and
dropped to foil his stroke, and dropped too low. Just
in time he saw the wind-wheels of Bromley hill rushing
up towards him, and spun about and up as the
aeroplane he had chased crashed among them. All its
voices wove into a felt of yelling. The great fabric
seemed to be standing on end for a second among the
heeling and splintering vans, and then it flew to pieces.
Huge splinters came flying through the air, its engines
burst like shells. A hot rush of flame shot overhead
into the darkling sky.
"_Two!_" he cried, with a bomb from overhead bursting
as it fell, and forthwith he was beating up again.
A glorious exhilaration possessed him now, a giant
activity. His troubles about humanity, about his
inadaquacy, were gone for ever. He was a man in battle
rejoicing in his power. Aeroplanes seemed radiating
from him in every direction, intent only upon avoiding
him, the yelling of their packed passengers came in
short gusts as they swept by. He chose his third
quarry, struck hastily and did but turn it on edge. It
escaped him, to smash against the tall cliff of London
wall. Flying from that impact he skimmed the darkling
ground so nearly he could see a frightened rabbit
bolting up a slope. He jerked up steeply, and found
himself driving over south London with the air about
him vacant. To the right of him a wild riot of signal
rockets from the Ostrogites banged tumultuously in
the sky. To the south the wreckage of half a dozen
air ships flamed, and east and west and north the air
ships fled before him. They drove away to the east
and north, and went about in the south, for they could
not pause in the air. In their present confusion any
attempt at evolution would have meant disastrous
collisions. He could scarcely realize the thing he had
done. In every quarter aeroplanes were receding.
They were receding. They dwindled smaller and
smaller. They were in flight!
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