drew, and know that you are
henceforth Knight Commander of the Queen's Own FBI."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Burris said humbly.

He rose to his feet silently. The Queen withdrew into the car again
and handed the gun back to Malone. He thumbed the cartridges into the
chambers of the cylinder and listened dumbly.

"Your Majesty," Burris said, "this is Dr. Harry Gamble, the head of
Project Isle. Dr. Gamble, this is Her Majesty the Queen; Lady Barbara
Wilson, her--uh--her lady-in-waiting; Sir Kenneth Malone; and King--I
mean Sir Thomas Boyd." He gave the four a single bright impartial
smile. Then he tore his eyes away from the others, and bent his gaze
on Sir Kenneth Malone. "Come over here a minute, Malone," he said,
jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "I want to talk to you."

Malone climbed out of the car and went around to meet Burris. He felt
just a little worried as he followed the Director away from the car.
True, he had sent Burris a long telegram the night before, in code.
But he hadn't expected the man to show up in Yucca Flats. There didn't
seem to be any reason for it.

And when there isn't any reason, Malone told himself sagely, it's a
bad one.

"What's the trouble, Chief?" he asked.

Burris sighed. "None so far," he said quietly. "I got a report from
the Nevada State Patrol, and ran it through R&I. They identified the
men you killed, all right--but it didn't do us any good. They're hired
hoods."

"Who hired them?" Malone said.

Burris shrugged. "Somebody with money," he said. "Hell, men like that
would kill their own grandmothers if the price were right--you know
that. We can't trace them back any farther."

Malone nodded. That was, he had to admit, bad news. But then, when had
he last had any good news?

"We're nowhere near our telepathic spy," Burris said. "We haven't come
any closer than we were when we started. Have you got anything?
Anything at all, no matter how small?"

"Not that I know of, sir," Malone said.

"What about the little old lady--what's her name? Thompson. Anything
from her?"

Malone hesitated. "She has a close fix on the spy, sir," he said
slowly, "but she doesn't seem able to identify him right away."

"What else does she want?" Burris said. "We've made her Queen and
given her a full retinue in costume; we've let her play roulette and
poker with Government money. Does she want to hold a mass execution?
If she does, I can supply some Congressmen, Malone. I'm sure it c