V
It was nearly midnight but no one moved toward his cot. Most of those who had witnessed Rabin's collapse could not sleep. Winthrop himself felt he would never sleep again.
General Hill came from the telephone. "Rabin's resting comfortably," he said. "His personal physician confirms Doctor Vigderman's suspicion that he'd been receiving psychiatric treatment. The casualty, then, is a normal one. It might have happened anywhere, any time. We can't attribute it to some baleful, alien influence."
What about the little girl? Winthrop was tempted to ask. Surely there was no imbalance there?
"Now," the general said, dismissing the tragedy of Rabin from his mind, "let's sum up. We've progressed beautifully. We have anti-gravity here, and proof that the speed of light can be exceeded. Standards fully verifies Allan's findings.
"Tomorrow, those most eminently qualified should try to determine how the bulkhead door may be opened. The General Staff has just ordered that it must be opened within forty-eight hours. All precautions will of course be taken to obviate damage to the ship."
"How about to us?" Winthrop asked sharply.
The general ignored him. "Now let's call it a day. You all must be as tired as I am."
"Stick with me, Al," Winthrop whispered urgently. Aloud he said, "Doctor Allan and I would like to go over the data now. We believe we've found the key to the door and that—"