The engineers had fastened all the girders together in the shape of a grid, a
huge iron bed the size of a house. Under this they had made a steel lined pit. Now
they poured fuel oil into the pit. The space-bat-angel-dragon watched.
Now they lit the fuel oil and the flames roared up fiercely through the bars of
the grid.
And now the space-bat-angel-dragon got his first shock. The Iron Man was
stretching himself out on his back, on the grid, among the flames, his ankles crossed,
his hands folded behind his head – just as if he were in bed, while the flames raged
under and around him.
The monster stared down, and the Iron Man smiled up out of the midst of the
flames.
The flames became fiercer. The grid became red-hot. The Iron Man’s hair and
elbows and toes became red-hot. His body became first blue, then black, then began
to glow dully. He was getting red-hot. Still he smiled up at the monster, and still the
flames grew fiercer.
And now the Iron Man was entirely red-hot. Pretty soon, he was almost whitehot. And still he smiled, out of white-hot eyes and with white-hot lips. And all the
time the space-bat-angel-dragon stared down in astonishment.
But now the fuel oil was all burned away. Suddenly the flames died, flickered
and went out. The white-hot Iron Man sat up, stood up, got stiffly off his glowing bed
and began to walk to and fro on the sand, cooling.