She looked at him thoughtfully for a full minute, weighing him.
"I want you to change sides, Martin. I want you to help us."
He stared at her in disbelief. "You must have known I wouldn't agree—even before you asked me."
"We need your help," she said steadily.
"You're doing all right."
"We're losing," she said, her face looking even more pale. "We've lost close to three hundred agents and we've located only ten fusion packages. I don't know your exact time table but I know it's sometime in November. It's late August now." Her face twisted. "We haven't got a chance, and you know it!"
"That's right," he agreed. "You haven't got a chance. What do you want me to do? Sell out?"
"You've already sold once," she said brutally.
There was that hint again, he thought sharply. The hint that she knew something about himself that he didn't. Or at least, she thought she did.
"Why should I sell out to a group of aliens?" he asked curiously.