"

"You disarm these damned mutants, and we'll capture them."

"Hope to."

In the yard, a crew was unloading a new power supply.

"Knock a hole in the east wall and take it inside!" a harried officer
bawled hoarsely.

"Some ass of a newspaper man did a report on unusual activity in the
Pentagon and around Washington," Dr. Norvel said. "He hinted it had
something to do with the flying saucer reports of twenty some years
ago."

"How in hell did it leak?"

"... the Pentagon's issuing a denial."

* * * * *

By midnight, Julia was superintending the construction of a second
signal generator. Work on the first one was temporarily stalled; the
technicians were waiting for a special transformer.

Dr. Norvel was waving an inked-in schematic diagram before the face of a
gray haired man in an apron. "No, no, no," she said. "It's got to be
_this_ way to set up the right harmonics."

A major came up and tugged apologetically at Julia's arm. "Are you in
charge here?"

"I'm sure I don't know."

"Well, if you are--please, Miss, my men have to rest. Can I let them go
now?"

"We're not quitting 'til we finish--I'm sure of that."

The major went away, looking for someone else in authority.

Walt, his mutant bridge restored, was inspecting the second signal
generator with interest. With it, the technicians would determine the
signal that interfered with his frequency. They would set it to throb
out that signal.

One section of the transmitter cable ran to each signal generator. A
sergeant had just finished installing a switch that would control the
signal being fed into the output line. After the first mutant wave had
been captured, the switch would be thrown to the left. The signal
covering Walt's powers would then be transmitted to the same network of
radio and television stations that had carried the one covering Julia's;
and the second wave would be reduced to earth normal.

It was dawn before the first signal generator began operation. It was
Sunday.

Julia sat at a desk, sipping coffee, holding a book suspended in front
of her, six inches from the desk top. The last twenty-four hours had
left a strain on her face. When the book fell, her mutant powers would
be gone.

Smoking cigarette after cigarette, Dr. Norvel watched. After nearly
fifteen minutes, she pleaded, "Drop, damn you, _drop_!"

Work on the second generator continued. It was at least half a day away
from completi