Gregg was standing up in the huge plastic cocoon he had created in a local park. Another thing the council understood as a work of art which actually had a dual purpose. It was an air raid shelter for artists. The spacecraft looked like the Gateshead angel, one man modules with solar panels on the wings. They weren't seventy feet tall, they were no bigger than humans. Gregg could hear the balls of lazer light from the spacecraft pounding the city, descending on the houses and buildings with a loud whooshing noise, followed by explosions that set whole streets on fire. He asked himself, "What have I done?"