She was the very soul of solemnity. "I don't understand you. I really don't understand you at all."
At that moment, an air car—much smaller than Raima's, dropped gently into the street beside Kirk. "Good lord! Did this thing smell me out?"
"It came to the mirror on Naia's private wave-length. Get in. It will take you to her."
Kirk crawled into the car. The last thing he saw before it lifted into the air, were Raima's dazzling black eyes. The last words he heard were, "Goodbye, Martin Kirk. I will visualize you."
The car swung up above the graceful, spidery buttresses and moved across the city. Kirk filled in the time by trying to figure out what made the thing go. He hadn't gotten to first base when the car lost altitude and came to rest on a balcony hung with seeming perilousness on a sheer white wall. Kirk stepped out. A large glass panel had been pushed back and Naia stood waiting in the opening.
"Nice of you to receive me," Kirk said. "Have you got your bags packed for a trip stateside?"
"Please come this way."
Naia turned and moved through the room just off the balcony. On the far side another door gave exit. She passed through it and turned as though waiting for Kirk. He took one step, two, three, four.
Then something came from somewhere and almost tore his jaw off. He went out in an explosion of black light.