"The Zillians are coming!" Andrew Bassett glanced up at the sky. There was a weather front coming in and its clouds divided the sky into an azure blue and the dirty off-white color of the clouds behind it. The leading edge of the front was sharp and straight, and looked as if someone had drawn a line accross the heavens and solidly pasted one side of it with tuffs of stained cotton. The sun was just behind the leading edge of the front and illuminated the clouds below it like a bright light behind a lamp-shade -- and turned the adjacent sky pale. This was in contrast to the sea below and gave the cobalt blue waters surrounding the island a sense of strenght and deference. It was a majestic sight and seemed to the Admiral to be an omnipotent symbol of the Earth's might. He had traveled through the stars and seen their wonders, but nothing compared to this. Taking a deep breath, he took one last look and then followed Cal into the ship -- wondering to himself if he would ever again see such a beautiful sight.