As the two men watched--and as a score of other eyes, from other galleries and ports likewise observed--the lean wasp carried out her driver's plan.

With a sudden, plunging swoop, she dived at the Eagle of the Sky for all the world like a hawk stooping at quarry.
A moment she kept pace with the air-liner's whirring rush.

She hovered, dropped with a wondrous precision that proved her rider's consummate skill, made a perfect landing on the long take-off that stretched from rudders to wing observation galleries, atop the liner.
Forward on _Nissr_ the wasp ran on her small, cushioned wheels.

She stopped, with jammed-on brakes, and came to rest not forty feet abaft the Eagle's beak.
Quite at once, without delay, the little door of the pilot-pit in the wasp's head swung wide, and a heavily-swaddled figure clambered out.
This figure stood a moment, peering about through goggles.

Then with a free, quick stride, he started forward toward the gallery where he had seen Bohannan and the Master.
The two awaited him.