They made a motion to grab her, but held back as she stopped. She stood in the afternoon sun and stretched lazily.
"To your left," the man behind her said.
She waited for a moment, and then she walked. She strode upon bare ground, upon soft grass, unable to be flippant now, looking stiffly ahead toward a flat gray building. The door was open and she could see the far wall, which was richly hung and colored in a strange deep red. The two men left her at the door, where another man, very old and white gowned and prissy, took her by the arm.
The man prepared her. She dropped all pretense at hardness, at disinterest, and sat like a stone. In with the other, the breeder, she would have to be icy. She became vaguely aware of a thick fragrance around her, a musky, oily smell. Then the man released her. She was prepared. He stood her up, waved at the door at the far end of the room.
"There," he said without interest, turning away.
She took a deep breath and walked forward.
It was a long way up and Web went most of the way at a crouch, the knife and the gun both ready at his belt. He had taken off his coat and tie; it was chilly in the woods but he did not feel it.
Four miles north of Alford, the old man had said. Just a half mile off the highway, on the tallest hill, the really steep one. He kept the highway to his right going up, beginning to wonder at last if the alien had told the truth. For all he knew, the camp might really be in northern Tibet, and he could be stealing his way ever so stealthily through total emptiness. But no. The old man had been scared to death. Literally. And anyway, the thing he was walking into was undoubtedly a trap, and knowing it did not do much good.
He cleared the first rise and climbed in among some rocks. Nearby below he could see the highway, empty. The sun was high in the afternoon. Four miles was not a long way, even crouching, and he could probably make it before dark. In the dark shadows of the bushes around him, nothing moved. He went up the next hill.