“But it is still only a machine, Geos.”

“To be sure, my lord; only a machine.  Anything without the life principle must remain so.”

The Jan Lucar pressed another catch, allowing another plate to lower and thereby disclose a glazed door, which opened into a cosy apartment fitted with wicker chairs, and large enough for four persons.  There was some sort of control gear, which the Jan Lucar explained was not connected directly with the flying and steering members, but indirectly through the membranes of the web-like system.  It was uncannily similar to the nervous connections of the cerebellum with the various parts of the anatomy of an insect.

“Does it travel very fast?”

“We think so, my lord.  This is the private machine of the Rhamda Avec.  It is rather small, but the swiftest machine in the Thomahlia.”

They entered the compartment, Watson took his seat beside the Geos, while the soldier sat forward next to the control elements.  He laid his hands on certain levers; next instant, the machine was gliding noiselessly over the mosaic, on to a short incline and thence, with ever increasing speed, toward and through the open side of the room.

The slides had all been thrown back; the compartment was enclosed only in glass.  Watson could get a clear view, and he was amazed at the speed of the craft.  Before he could think they were out in mid-air and ascending skyward.  Travelling on a steep slant, there was no vibration, no mechanical noise; scarcely the suggestion of movement, except for the muffled swish of the air.

Were it not for the receding city below him, Chick could have imagined himself sitting in a house while a windstorm tore by.  He felt no change in temperature or any other ill effects; the cabin was fully enclosed, and heated by some invisible means.  In short, ideal flight:  for instance, the seats were swung on gimbals, so that no matter at what angle the craft might fly, the passengers would maintain level positions.

Below stretched the Mahovisal—­a mighty city of domes and plazas, and, widely scattered, a few minarets.  At the southern end there was a vast, square plaza, covering thousands of acres.  Toward it, on two sides, converged scores of streets; they stretched away from it like the ribs of a giant fan.  On the remaining two sides there was a tremendously large building with a V-shaped front, opening on the square.  The play of opal light on its many-bubbled roof resembled the glimmer from a vast pearl.

In the air above the city an uncountable number of very small objects darted hither and thither like sparkling fireflies.  It was difficult to realise that they, too, were aircraft.

To the west lay an immense expanse of silver, melting smoothly into the horizon.  Watson took it to be the Thomahlian ocean.  Then he looked up at the sky directly above him, and breathed a quick exclamation.