"Yes, we!" He took her hand. "We'd trail that rumor down and have Bohannan out of there, and the others too, if—but no, no, the thing's impossible!"
"Nothing is impossible, I tell you, in the East. And haven't we had miracles enough? After we were judged pirates and condemned to die, by the International Aero Tribunal, wasn't it a miracle about that pardon? That immunity, for your vibratory secrets that have revolutionized the defensive tactics of the League's air-forces?"
She smiled up at him, through the vapor. "It's the impossible that happens, these days! The soul within me tells me some of our chaps are still alive, out there!"
She waved her smoky wand toward the large-scale map of Arabia on the wall.
"But Rrisa," said he. "About the others, there's no sense of guilt. I feel, though, like a murderer about Rrisa."
"Rrisa still lives!"
He shook his head.
"The incense tells me." She insisted. "My heart tells me!"
"Allah make it so! But even if he is dead, he died like the others—a man!"
"In pursuit of an ideal. We all had that, a dream and an ideal."