The man put a hand to his flickering belt. Both Ted and Martha Graham
felt themselves rooted to the floor, a tingling sensation vibrating
along every nerve.
Again the strange language rolled from the man's tongue, but now the
words were understood.
"Who are you?"
"My name's Graham. This is my wife. What's going--"
"How did you get here?"
"The Rushes--they wanted to trade us this house for our trailer. They
brought us. Now look, we--"
"What is your talent--your occupation?"
"Tax accountant. Say! Why all these--"
"That was to be expected," said the man. "Clever! Oh, excessively
clever!" His hand moved again to the belt. "Now be very quiet. This may
confuse you momentarily."
Colored lights filled both the Grahams' minds. They staggered.
"You are qualified," said the man. "You will serve."
"Where are we?" demanded Martha Graham.
"The coordinates would not be intelligible to you," he said. "I am of
the Rojac. It is sufficient for you to know that you are under Rojac
sovereignty."
* * * * *