Broward looked at the far wall with its array on array of indicator lights, switches, pushbuttons, and slots for admission of coded cards and tapes.
He turned to Scone, and he said, "Time for us to quit being coy. I've known for a long time that you were the chief of a Nationalist underground."
For the first time since Broward had known him, Scone's face cracked wide open.
"What?"
Then, the cracks closed up, the cliff-front was solid again.
"Why didn't you report me. Or are you...?"
"Not of your movement, no," said Broward. "I'm an Athenian. You've heard of us?"
"I know of them," said Scone. "A lunatic fringe. Neither Russ, Chinese, nor Yank. I had suspected that you weren't a very solid Marxist. Why tell me this?"
"I want to talk you out of destroying the controls and the transmitters," said Broward.
"Why?"