nt the Moon Base."

Leone pondered as the communications officer raised the outside
antenna cautiously, scanning the sky above the bunker for any sign of
a watching Russian ship.

"Sir," Scott said to Hendricks. "It's sure strange they suddenly came
around. We've been using the claws for almost a year. Now all of a
sudden they start to fold."

"Maybe claws have been getting down in their bunkers."

"One of the big ones, the kind with stalks, got into an Ivan bunker
last week," Eric said. "It got a whole platoon of them before they got
their lid shut."

"How do you know?"

"A buddy told me. The thing came back with--with remains."

"Moon Base, sir," the communications officer said.

On the screen the face of the lunar monitor appeared. His crisp
uniform contrasted to the uniforms in the bunker. And he was clean
shaven. "Moon Base."

"This is forward command L-Whistle. On Terra. Let me have General
Thompson."

The monitor faded. Presently General Thompson's heavy features came
into focus. "What is it, Major?"

"Our claws got a single Russian runner with a message. We don't know
whether to act on it--there have been tricks like this in the past."

"What's the message?"

"The Russians want us to send a single officer on policy level over to
their lines. For a conference. They don't state the nature of the
conference. They say that matters of--" He consulted the slip.
"--Matters of grave urgency make it advisable that discussion be
opened between a representative of the UN forces and themselves."

He held the message up to the screen for the general to scan.
Thompson's eyes moved.

"What should we do?" Hendricks said.

"Send a man out."

"You don't think it's a trap?"

"It might be. But the location they give for their forward command is
correct. It's worth a try, at any rate."

"I'll send an officer out. And report the results to you as soon as he
returns."

"All right, Major." Thompson broke the connection. The screen died. Up
above, the antenna came slowly down.

Hendricks rolled up the paper, deep in thought.

"I'll go," Leone said.

"They want somebody at policy level." Hendricks rubbed his jaw.
"Policy level. I haven't been outside in months. Maybe I could use a
little air."

"Don't you think it's risky?"

Hendricks lifted the view sight and gazed into it. The remains of the
Russian were gone. Only a single claw was in sight. It was folding
itself back, disappearing into the ash, lik