"_SQUAWK!_" went the horn.
"Rafe!" Lenny shouted. "Wake up! WAKE UP!"
Rafe blinked as the situation clarified. "What? Just A Second. Lenny.
Just...."
* * * * *
"... _A second._"
Raphael Poe blinked his eyes open. The moon was shining through the dirty
windows of the dingy little room that was all he could call home--for a
while, at least. Outside the window were the gray streets of Moscow.
His brother's thoughts resounded in his fully awake brain. _Rafe! You
awake?_
_Sure. Sure. What is it?_
The conversation that followed was not in words or pictures, but a weird
combination of both, plus a strong admixture of linking concepts that were
neither.
In essence, Lenny merely reported that he had taken the day off to go to
the races and that Colonel Spaulding was evidently upset for some reason.
He wondered if Rafe were in any kind of trouble.
_No trouble. Everything's fine at this end. But Dr. Malekrinova won't be
back on the job until tomorrow afternoon--or,_ this _afternoon,
rather._
_I know_, Lenny replied. _That's why I figured I could take time off for a
go at the ponies._
_I wonder why they're in such a fuss, then?_ Rafe thought.
_I'll let you know when I find out_, Lenny said. _Go back to sleep and
don't worry._
[Illustration]
* * * * *
In a small office in the Pentagon, Colonel Julius T. Spaulding cradled the
telephone on his desk and looked at the Secretary of Defense. "That was
the airfield. Poe will be here shortly. We'll get to the bottom of this
pretty quickly."
"I hope so, Julius," the Secretary said heavily. "The president is
beginning to think we're both nuts."
The colonel, a lean, nervous man with dark, bushy eyebrows and a mustache
to match, rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling. "I'm beginning to agree
with him."