The telephone rang loudly, and Malone scooped it up with a practiced hand. "Malone here," he said.
Her Majesty's voice was excited. "Sir Kenneth!" she said. "I just got a tremendous burst of—static!"
Malone blinked. Is my mind acting up again? he thought, knowing she would pick it up. Am I being interfered with?
He didn't feel any different. But then, how was he supposed to feel?
"It's not your mind, Sir Kenneth," Her Majesty said. "Not this time. It's his mind. That sneaky-thinking Brubitsch fellow."
Brubitsch? Malone thought. Now what is that supposed to mean?
"I don't know, Sir Kenneth," Her Majesty said. "But get on back to your questioning. He's ready to talk now."
"O.K.," Malone said aloud. "Fine." He hung up and looked back to the Russian sitting on his chair. Brubitsch was ready to talk, and that was one good thing, anyhow. But what was all the static about?
What was going on?
"Now, then," Malone said. "You were telling us about your group activities."