Sometimes
it seems what with alien dangers lurking on land, sea, and outer space
the only safe place to be is suspended like Mohammed's coffin between
Earth and Heaven. Nothing there, right? Not according to
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's 1913 tale The Horror of the Heights,
in which we learn that the upper atmosphere is the hunting ground for
titanic floating monstrosities that like nothing better than to have
visiting aviators to tea... or rather, for tea.
