Legend said this was the first place men flew. Like artificial birds, they had dressed themselves with beeswax and feathers, launched themselves from the lofty palace and soared over the jewelled sea. They had climbed high, ever nearer the sun until one, a boy, flew too close, melted his wings and fell. By the time the last feather settled on the water, the boy had slipped beneath the waves, into myth. Now there were men in the sky again. Instead of feathers they flew on wings of silk, and the webbed harnesses which held them would not melt in the sun. Fallschirmjäger, they called themselves: hunters from the sky. They did not fall, but swooped down to the earth like hungry eagles. Pemberton saw them from his office window. He had known he was in trouble when the bombing stopped. [download]
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