"Only five left. The three must be among you. We have narrowed it down." His hand moved to his belt. Something flashed, a rod of pale fire. He raised the rod, pointing it steadily at the five people. "All right, the first one of you. What do you know about this destruction? Are you involved with the destruction of our city?"
"No, not at all," the man murmured.
"Yes, he's telling the truth," the box intoned.
"Next!"
"Nothing— I know nothing. I had nothing to do with it."
"True," the box said.
The ship was silent. Three people remained, a middle-aged man and his wife and their son, a boy of about twelve. They stood in the corner, staring white-faced at the Leiter, at the rod in his dark fingers.
"It must be you," the Leiter grated, moving toward them. The Martian soldiers raised their guns. "It must be you. You there, the boy. What do you know about the destruction of our city? Answer!"
The boy shook his head. "Nothing," he whispered.
The box was silent for a moment. "He is telling the truth," it said reluctantly.