thing else--"

"Oh, I wanted to mention that," the general said. "I want to give you a
phone number. You can reach me any time, day or night, through it." He
wrote it on a piece of paper.

Julia memorized it at a glance.

The general made a few more notes. He glanced at his watch again. "I
guess that's the size of it, Julia."

* * * * *

In the space station, the aliens were readying for the invasion.

Lycan had just finished issuing clothing to the mutants in the larger
compartment. Once dressed, they were indistinguishable from earthlings.
And more important, when the larger transmitter was eventually cut off,
Forential's mutants would easily mistake them for earthlings.

Forential had finished assigning sectors of Earth to his own charges.
Each was to cover a given area. They were told that the war on the
planet was nearing its conclusion; destruction was everywhere. There
would be no opposition to bother them. (In reality, Lycan's mutants, the
first wave, having taken care of _that_.) They could clean up their
assigned sectors slowly, thoroughly, methodically. Forential instructed
them in all the details of detecting and tracking down earthlings. A
month after their arrival, they would be, Forential said, the only
survivors.

**It is,** the Elder commented covetously, **one of the prettiest little
planets I've ever seen. We will be well rewarded for our work.**

CHAPTER XI

Julia awakened with a start very early Saturday morning. It was not yet
three o'clock. Washington lay silent beyond her window. The dark, chill
air of the room was motionless.

I forgot to seal Walt's mind off from Calvin's! she thought in blind
terror.

She fumbled her bed clothes off and swung her feet to the carpet.

But once she was standing, the effects of the nightmare began to
dissipate. She was surprised to find herself trembling. She laughed
nervously. She had dreamed that Walt was crossing the carpet toward her
bed, walking in silent invisibility. He had raised a knife to plunge it
into her heart--had raised a great rock to smash her skull--had aimed a
pistol at her brain--while she lay in chill terror, waiting, helpless.

The cold made goose pimples on her naked skin. But her own laugh
reassured her.

A second of concentration and blood flowed skin-ward, warming her.

She found the light switch.

When the light came on, she heard the guard outside the door shuffle
restlessly.