One of the men across from Julia cleared his throat. He was in civilian clothes. He was slightly stooped and partly bald. He wiped his glasses nervously. "We would like a demonstration of your—your, um, um unusual propensities." He adjusted his glasses.
The glasses disengaged themselves from his ears and floated toward Julia. Julia stood up and walked through the table toward them.
She reached out. Both she and the glasses vanished.
One of the general officers made a check mark on his note book. "I'd say our report is substantially correct."
The other civilian in the room, a youngish blonde woman, lit another cigarette. The ash tray before her was overflowing. Her fingers were nicotine stained. "Very extraordinary."
Julia materialized back in her chair. She replaced the glasses.
The conferees began to whisper softly.
The blonde nodded her head. She turned to Julia. "About this space station—"
"This is Doctor Helen Norvel," one of the general officers told Julia.
Dr. Norvel ignored him. "Is there some way we could detect it?"