"The last machine in the line of flight has dropped four bombs," he said. "And we have just—"
The gaunt woman straightened, cutting him short with an abrupt, angry gesture.
"Four bombs! What are you talking about? I heard no detonations."
"The last machine is flying very low and it has fallen behind," the commander replied, the look of concern still in his eyes. "That's why you didn't hear the bombs explode. But that is not what I am worried about."
The gaunt woman's stare sharpened. "Just what are you worried about?" she demanded.
"He has dropped the bombs far wide of the targets," the commander said. "That in itself would not be a grave cause for concern, for it would indicate merely poor marksmanship. But he appears to have—perhaps it was not deliberate, but—"
The commander paused, realizing that he was putting all this very badly. But the woman before him was no ordinary Monitor and her formidable aspect made him feel unusually nervous and ill at ease. The news he had to convey was disturbing, and he was a little afraid of alarming the Monitor unduly.
He coughed to clear his throat and tried again.
"He has not only dropped the bombs wide of the targets," he said. "He has dropped them on the wrong targets."
The gaunt woman stared at him for a moment in stunned disbelief. "What are you trying to say? Have you taken leave of your senses? How could he?"