He pointed to the radar, to the radio, to the auto-pilot mechanism, to the instrument panel, and to the gyro-compass. Tiny wires came from each and were cut. They matched the grayish metal cube in his hand.
Narina agreed silently, her luminous eyes staring intently at the cube. And as they contemplated the incomprehensible thing, the radio broke into life. It was Jason Charless, making his first message to General Lloyd; both Vinson and Narina listened intently until Jason Charless was cut off abruptly.
Vinson scowled. "How would he know you're mixed up in it?" he asked.
Narina shrugged. "I have a habit of scrawling my name on the backs of finished components," she said; "he must have seen one."
Vinson nodded absently. "That must be the reason," he said.
Narina looked at him anxiously. "It means that both logic computers are there," she said. "But with whom?"
"He did not say; he was cut off before he had a chance."
Narina shook her head. "Put yourself in his place," she suggested. "You ride a guided missile to the spot to spy it out. General Lloyd knows that the guided missiles are with Charless, ergo he need not tell him that. The logic computers were mentioned. But Harry, suppose you were there, landed, expecting full and well to find that my countrymen were in charge—then discovered that your suspicions were completely wrong. What would be your first reaction? To correct the error in thinking. Then to suggest an alliance with us because you find that not only your own equipment is there, but the equipment of the expected enemy, still in the hands of the supposed third party."
"Any man in his right mind would blurt the name of the offender," agreed Harry Vinson with certainty, "if for no other reason than to avert striking at the wrong party. If some other country wanted war between us, they could do no less than start it this way."
"And to uncover the fraud would be an intelligent officer's first consideration."