could have been made by a
wheelchair.

He followed them, feeling the throb of giant engines underfoot.

* * * * *

The wheelchair tracks abruptly made a ninety-degree turn and ended at a
blank wall. Somewhere beyond it must be the communications room.

He retreated and waited.

In time the wall snapped open and Hafitz sped out. The young man
retreated into the maze of corridors and hoped chance would be on his
side. It was. Hafitz went another way.

The young man ran back to the wall and used his fingers on it in the
combination he had learned. It opened for him.

He closed it behind him and blinked at the huge instrument panel which
filled almost the entire room.

One of the instruments was a color vision screen, tuned in to a room in
which there was a mahogany desk, at which was seated a man in uniform.
Behind him was a map of the United States.

The man in uniform was a major general in the Air Force. An aide, a
lieutenant colonel, was leaning over the desk. He had a sheaf of papers
in his hand. The men's conversation was audible.

"Messages have been coming in from all over Europe," the colonel was
saying. "Here's the way it reconstructs:

"Our agent was en route to the rendezvous when he was intercepted by
Naomi. That's the only name we have for her. She's a spy. She's worked
for half a dozen countries and her present employer could be any one of
them. They were spotted as they crossed the frontier between Italy and
France. Their car went into a barn and we thought we had them. But the
barn turned out to be a spaceship in disguise. It took off."

_So I'm their agent, Paul Asher thought. So that's what it's all about.
I'm a secret agent for the United States, but they didn't tell me
anything about it. This is real George, this is ... He expected to hear
a faint click and leaned forward experimentally, but nothing happened.
He leaned backward. Still nothing._

The colonel was answering a question from the general. "We don't know
who they are, Sir. They're not from Earth, obviously. And the best
scientific minds go still further--they're not even from our solar
system. Whoever they are, it's clear that they don't want us to build a
way-station in space."

"Those spaceships started buzzing around right after our first Moon
trip," the general said. "This is the first time they've become really
troublesome--now that we've got the Moon under control and are ready to
build