*

Russian? Walt thought. What did that mean? He could tell he was in for
trouble. The man's grip on his arm was uncomfortably authoritative. If I
only had a focus rod, I could ... he thought.

His heart began to hammer. Would they use one of the terrible atom bombs
to destroy him in another minute?

"Come along," the officer said.

"... I want a drink of water, please."

"He's been out on the desert," the driver said. "Maybe all night, from
the looks of him."

"Okay," the officer said. "Let's go over here.... What's your name?"

Walt walked beside him. "Walt."

"Walt what?"

"... Walt."

"I mean, Walt Smith or Jones or Johnson?"

"That's it." Walt's mind raced.

"What?"

"Johnson," Walt said. "Walt Johnson?"

The officer puckered up his lips. "Okay, friend, we'll find out more
about you in a little bit. Let's get your drink."

They entered the warm roadside office. The officer crossed to the cooler
and drew a glass of water.

"Thanks." Walt drank thirstily. "More?"

The officer complied; as yet he had not taken his eyes off the mutant.

Holding his glass, empty for a second time, Walt glanced around the
office, balancing nervously on the balls of his feet. When his eyes
rested on a spot behind the officer, he said, "What's that?"

The officer turned. "What?"

Walt tried to concentrate on the invisibility projection. He started for
the door.

"What?" the officer repeated, puzzled. He looked around. "I'll be
damned! Now where--"

Once in the yard, Walt raced toward the check point. It was hard to hold
the distortion field around himself and his clothing.

The officer was now in the yard shouting.

"He can't get far!" someone called.

A moment later a car drew up to the check point. Walt would have to pass
through the steel of the door to enter it unnoticed. Steel was difficult
to penetrate, particularly difficult, if he remained invisible while
doing it.

He succeeded.

He settled into the rear seat.

Blood vessels strained on his forehead.

Hurry! he thought.

* * * * *

The driver meshed the gears with a button just when he was wavering on
the edge of visibility. An officer glanced into the car. Walt held his
breath. The officer motioned the car on.

The driver, Walt saw now, was a girl. Forential had shown him pictures
of female Lyrians; and this girl--but for the fact she was an
earthling--would have been beautiful. Now that he had begu