The world wagged on. The newspapers knew nothing about super-secret
top-level worries. There was not a single news story printed anywhere
suggesting an invasion of Earth from outer space. There were a few more
Flying Saucer yarns than normal, and it was beginning to transpire that
an unusual number of important people were sick, or on vacation, or
otherwise out of contact with the world. But, actually, not one of the
events in which Coburn and Janice had been concerned reached the state
of being news. Even the shooting off the Bay of Naples was explained as
an emergency drill.
Quietly, a good many things happened. Cryptic orders passed around, and
oxygen tanks were accumulated in military posts. Hunter and Nereid
guided missiles were set up as standard equipment in a number of
brand-new places. They were loaded for bear. But days went by, and
nothing happened. Nothing at all. But officialdom was not at ease.
If anything--while the wide world went happily about its
business--really high-level officialdom grew more unhappy day by day.
Coburn and Janice flew back to Salonika. They went in a Navy plane with
a fighter plane escort. They landed at the Salonika airport, and the
Greek general was among those who greeted them.
He took them out to the villa he'd placed at the disposal of high
authority for their use. He displayed it proudly. There was absolutely
no sign that it had been touched by anybody since its original builders
had finished with it two-hundred-odd years before. The American officer
who had wired it, though--he looked as if he were short a week's
sleep--showed them how anywhere on the grounds or in the house they
would need only to speak a code-word and they'd instantly be answered.
There were servants, and the Greek general took Coburn aside and assured
him that there was one room which absolutely was not wired for sound. He
named it.
So they took up a relatively normal way of life. Sometimes they decided
that it would be pleasant to drive in to Salonika. They mentioned it,
and went out and got in the car that went with the villa. Oddly, there
was always some aircraft lazying about overhead by the time they were
out of the gate. They always returned before sunset. And sometimes they
swam in the water before the villa's door. Then, also, they were careful
to be back on solid ground before sunset. That was so their guards out
on the water wouldn't have to worry.
But it was a nagging and an unhappy business to know that they were
watched and overheard everywhere save in that one unwired room. It could
have made for tension between them. But there was another thought to
hold them together. This was the knowledge that they were literally
living on top of a bomb. If an Invader's flying ship descended at the
villa, everything that happened would be heard and seen by microphones
and concealed television cameras. If the Invaders were too arrogant, or
if they were arbitrary, there would be a test to see if their ship could
exist in the heart of an atom-bomb explosion.
* * * * *
Coburn and Janice, then, were happy after a fashion. But nobody could
call their situation restful.
They had very few visitors. The Greek general came out meticulously
every day. Hallen came out once, but he knew about the atomic bomb. He
didn't stay long. When they'd been in residence a week, the General
telephoned zestfully that he was going to bring out some company. His
English was so mangled and obscure that Coburn wondered cynically if
whoever listened to their tapped telephone could understand him. But,
said the General in high good humor, he was playing a good joke. He had
hunted up Helena, who was Coburn's secretary, and he had also invited
Dillon to pay a visit to some charming people he knew. It would be a
great joke to see Dillon's face.
There was a fire in the living room that night. The Greek servants had
made it, and Coburn thought grimly that they were braver men and women
than he'd have been. They didn't have to risk their lives. They could
have refused this particular secret-service assignment. But they hadn't.
A voice spoke from the living-room ceiling, a clipped American voice.
"Mr. Coburn, a car is coming."
That was standard. When the General arrived; when the occasional
delivery of telephoned-for supplies came; on the one occasion when a
peddler on foot had entered the ground. It lacked something of being the
perfect atmosphere for a honeymoon, but it was the way things were.
Presently there were headlights outside. The Greek butler went to greet
the guests. Coburn and Janice heard voices. The General was in
uproarious good humor. He came in babbling completely uncomprehensible
English.
There was Helena. She smiled warmly at Coburn. She went at once to
Janice. "How do you do?" she said in her prettily accented English. "I
have missed not working for your husband, but this is my fiance!"
And Janice shook hands with a slick-haired young Greek who looked
pleasant enough, but did not seem to her as remarkable as Coburn.
Then Dillon stared at Coburn.
"The devil!" he said, with every evidence of indignation. "This is the
chap--"
The General roared, and Coburn said awkwardly: "I owe you an apology,
and the privilege of a poke in the nose besides. But it was a
situation--I was in a state--"
Then the General howled with laughter. Helena laughed. Her fiance
laughed. And Dillon grinned amusedly at Coburn.
* * * * *
"My dear fellow!" said Dillon. "We are the guests this whole villa was
set up to receive! The last time I saw you was in Naousa, and the last
time Helena saw you you stuck pins in her, and--"
Coburn stiffened. He went slowly pale.
"I--see! You're the foam-suit people, eh?" Then he looked with hot
passion at the General. "You!" he said grimly. "You I didn't suspect.
You've made fools of all of us, I think."
The General said something obscure which could have been a proverb. It
was to the effect that nobody could tell a fat man was cross-eyed when
he laughed.
"Yes," said Dillon beaming. "He is fat. So his eyes don't look like
they're different. You have to see past his cheeks and eyebrows. That's
how he passed muster. And he slept very soundly after the airport
affair."
Coburn felt a sort of sick horror. The General had passed as a man, and
he'd loaned this villa, and he knew all about the installation of the
atomic bomb.... Then Coburn looked through a doorway and there was his
Greek butler standing in readiness with a submachine-gun in his hands.
"I take it this is an official call," said Coburn steadily. "In that
case you know we're overheard--or did the General cancel that?"
"Oh, yes!" said Dillon. "We know all about the trap we've walked into.
But we'd decided that the time had come to appear in the open anyhow.
You people are very much like us, incidentally. Apparently there's only
one real way that a truly rational brain can work. And we and you Earth
people both have it. May we sit down?"