The noise ended abruptly. On MacFarland's right, one of Crawford Bell's technicians aimed a battery of lights at the enemy line. Flickering colors made shifting patterns on the faces of the Belderkan troops. The colors were supposed to create mental confusion and weaken motivation.
"Look at their faces," Doctor Warren said. "Wouldn't a club be more humane?"
Two Belderkan trucks were parked behind the line. Technicians came out of them and set up lights which neutralized the lights of the invaders.
A jet screamed into a runway at the far end of the airport. MacFarland watched it taxi to the terminal building. It was the flight the scientists were supposed to leave on. He glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes.
This was where the human imagination met its test. The mind struggled to invent alternatives to violence. There could be no appeal to the enemy's reason. Conflicting interests clashed head on. Only maneuver and cunning could win the day.
He stepped out of the car and walked up to the Belderkan line. "How much do you want? My government'll give thousands to the man that lets us through. We can give you things money can't buy. Our loveliest women. A palace. Pleasure for the rest of your life. Don't you like money? Wouldn't you like to be rich?"
No one answered. Walking down the line, he repeated his offer. He stopped in front of a thin, spectacled youth who couldn't possibly be older than nineteen.
"You can make your fortune in a minute. The rest of your life, you can do what you please." He named a famous beauty. "Wouldn't you like her? She's on our payroll."
The youth avoided MacFarland's eyes. "I won't be tempted. I can't be tempted."