Francine ignored the security agent loitering a few steps behind her, glanced at her wristwatch: nine-twenty. Hiko will be wondering what's happened to me, she thought. We were supposed to get started by eight. Hopelessness gripped her mind. The spaceship looming over the end of the concourse appeared like a malignant growth—an evil thing crouched ready to envelope and smother her.
Could that fool general be right? The thought came to her mind unbidden. She shook her head. No! He was lying! But why did he want me to.... Delayed realization broke off the thought. They wanted me to take a small bomb inside the ship, but there was no mention of my escaping! I'd have had to stay with the cart and the bomb to allay suspicions. My God! Those beasts expected me to commit suicide for them! They wanted me to blame the Galactics for Bob's death! They tried to build a lie in my mind until I'd fall in with their plan. It's hard enough to die for an ideal, but to give up your life for a lie....
Anger coursed through her. She stopped on the steps, stood there shivering. A new feeling of futility replaced the anger. Tears blurred her vision. What can one lone woman do against such ruthless schemers?
Through her tears, she saw movement on the concourse: a man in civilian clothes crossing from right to left. Her mind registered the movement with only partial awareness: man stops, points. She was suddenly alert, tears gone, following the direction of the civilian's extended right arm, hearing his voice shout: "Hey! Look at that!"
A thin needle of an aircraft stitched a hurtling line across the watery desert sky. It banked, arrowed toward the spaceship. Behind it roared an airforce jet—delta wings vibrating, sun flashing off polished metal. Tracers laced out toward the airship.
Someone's attacking the spaceship! she thought. It's a Russian ICBM!
But the needle braked abruptly, impossibly, over the spaceship. Behind it, the airforce jet's engine died, and there was only the eerie whistling of air burning across its wings.
Gently, the needle lowered itself into a fold of the spaceship.
It's one of theirs—the Galactics' she realized. Why is it coming here now? Do they suspect attack? Is that some kind of reinforcement?
Deprived of its power, the jet staggered, skimmed out to a dust-geyser, belly-landing in the alkali flats. Sirens screamed as emergency vehicles raced toward it.