The conversation that followed was not in words or pictures, but a weird combination of both, plus a strong admixture of linking concepts that were neither.
In essence, Lenny merely reported that he had taken the day off to go to the races and that Colonel Spaulding was evidently upset for some reason. He wondered if Rafe were in any kind of trouble.
No trouble. Everything's fine at this end. But Dr. Malekrinova won't be back on the job until tomorrow afternoon—or, this afternoon, rather.
I know, Lenny replied. That's why I figured I could take time off for a go at the ponies.
I wonder why they're in such a fuss, then? Rafe thought.
I'll let you know when I find out, Lenny said. Go back to sleep and don't worry.
In a small office in the Pentagon, Colonel Julius T. Spaulding cradled the telephone on his desk and looked at the Secretary of Defense. "That was the airfield. Poe will be here shortly. We'll get to the bottom of this pretty quickly."
"I hope so, Julius," the Secretary said heavily. "The president is beginning to think we're both nuts."
The colonel, a lean, nervous man with dark, bushy eyebrows and a mustache to match, rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling. "I'm beginning to agree with him."