"Nothing," the craggy man answered. "She has some degree of
clairvoyance and it is coming to consciousness. Unfortunately, she has
not yet had time to develop her talents in that direction."
"Maybe the turtle wouldn't want to rebuild human culture," the girl
interrupted. "Maybe it wouldn't want to go back down that blind alley
again. Perhaps it would decide to go into another channel, to develop
into something totally different. In that case, it might not need
hands."
Zen deliberately ignored her. He turned to West. "A bomb will be going
off," he said.
"That is what I've been trying to talk to you about," the craggy man
answered. "This is another reason why we came back for you--so we could
talk to you about that bomb."
"To me?" Zen said startled.
"Yes, to you."
"Why?"
"Because you are a colonel of intelligence and have experience in such
matters. Also because you are something that none of us are--a fighting
man."
"I--I don't understand you," Zen answered.
"I can get you there. But once there, my knowledge fails. I, to my
regret, know nothing of fighting." West spread his hands in a helpless
gesture.
"Get me where?" Zen asked.
"To Asia. To the underground cavern where they are getting ready to
launch that bomb," West explained. The tone of his voice said this was
easy. The hard part came in knowing what to do, and being able to do
it, after they were there.
"To Asia?" Zen parroted the words. He had the dazed impression that
this whole scene was unreal, that the snoring Asians on the floor, Cal
huddled by the wall, and the new people crowding into the room, would
shortly all vanish in puffs of green smoke. "How in the hell will you
get us to Asia?"
"How did we get out of this gallery?" West responded. "How did we
vanish? How did the men in the reports you read get into the planes
that were about to crash? Who landed Colonel Grant's space satellite?
Who steered it? Who provided the power to energize the motion? Who--"
"Did you know I knew about Grant?"
"It was obvious that you must know."
"And you can get me to Asia?"
"You and as many others as you choose to take with you!"
Walking over to the sleeping lieutenant, he picked up the man's rifle,
then turned to the group.
"Who will go with me to Asia?" he asked.
The group stepped forward as one man.
A knot formed in Kurt Zen's throat at the sight and he gulped to force
it down. He knew how much this decision meant to them. They had been
trained in the ways of peace, they were searching for the road to the
future. Fighting meant turning backward on the path that led to growth,
it was the last thing they wanted to do. Yet do it they would, if it
was necessary. In an instant they were scrambling for weapons from the
sleeping Asians, then they were trying to salute and tell him their
names and say they would follow him at the same time.
One man saluted well. "Red-Dog Jimmie Thurman," he said. Pride was in
the man's voice.