"I can't see myself and I don't feel cold at all," she mused. "Are we dead?"
Gunnar had a practical mind.
"I don't think so," he decided. "I don't know what's happened to us, but if we can't see ourselves or each other they sure as hell can't see us either. And we're going to damn well take advantage of it. Their radar station, first."
They floundered out into a snowstorm, keeping together by the sound of their voices and an occasional touch of hands.
"I wish we had feet like snowshoes," he remarked, trying to break the spell of spookiness with conversation.
He felt a tug, a spreading, and found himself stepping lightly over the drifts.
"Judas!" he said in awe. "If we're dead, which place is this?"
The confidential agent from Imperial Headquarters confronted the garrison's commandant. "You are a disgrace to the Imperial Army," he snorted. "You have the mentality of an Ainu."
"But Excellency—"