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Then, to Koldunov's surprise, they began to weld threadlike filaments to the engine's skin. He was told the material would make the locomotive impervious to reentry friction. He wondered where Colonel Intifadah had secured the substance.

Finally the Lobynians set about repainting the locomotive entirely green. They were putting the finishing touches to it now.

"This is a waste of time," Koldunov muttered to his new assistant, Hamid Al-Mudir. Al-Mudir was Al-Qaid's replacement. He didn't know a solenoid from a gigawatt. He had GID written all over him.

"It is to honor Colonel Intifadah, who reveres the color green above all other colors," Al-Mudir insisted.

"Speaking of the Colonel, he should have been here by now."

"He will be on time, I assure you," Al-Mudir said smoothly.

The final dabs of paint applied, the Lobynians gave Koldunov the American A-okay finger sign.

"Tell them to load the engine into the breech," he ordered.

Al-Mudir barked the command into a console microphone. His words reverberated through the dank underground complex.

As the Lobynians pushed the locomotive with agonizing slowness, Pyotr Koldunov thought again of what he was about to do.

Koldunov had no love for America. He hated all foreigners. And as a scientist and a good Soviet, he was willing to do whatever the Kremlin required of him. But it was one thing to launch a locomotive at official Washington. Everyone knew Washington was the breeding ground for all the political troubles plaguing the world. And at first Koldunov did not dream that the first launch would come anywhere near the target area. In that respect his concern over the consequences of impact had paled before his elation as an inventor. With the second launch, he was certain the EM Accelerator would perform less effectively and drop the second locomotive into the Atlantic. At worst, most of its mass would burn up before impact.

But even tumbling erratically, the second locomotive had come wonderfully close to its intended target. And the knowledge of where Colonel Intifadah had ordered him to aim this third locomotive sent a cold horror into Koldunov's dry heart.

New York City. Innocent people. Worse, what if Colonel Intifadah ever got control of the Accelerator? Would even Moscow be safe?

Colonel Intifadah was correct in his assumption. The EM Accelerator was being deployed as a test. If American satellites ever discovered this site, they would take it out with massive retaliation. The Kremlin assumed that possibility. But as his superior in the Ministry of Science had told him:

"It is a reasonable risk. Besides, if Lobynia is destroyed, all that will vanish from the world will be a lot of useless sand and a client state that is more trouble than it is worth. It might be a good thing if we lost Colonel Intifadah. He is forever threatening to join the Western camp."

"I understand," Koldunov had said. And so he knew the risks of this assignment and had accepted them in the name of science.

But he had not expected to become a mass murderer on this assignment. He was a scientist. Not a butcher.

As he thought that last thought, Colonel Hannibal Intifadah's jeep tooled into the launch area. The jeep was green. Not military green, but lime green. Colonel Intifadah wore his usual green uniform. To Koldunov, he looked like the clown prince of military men as he stomped on olive boots into the control console.

"I see that I am just in time to watch the magnificent weapon being loaded," said Colonel Intifadah, smiling broadly. Everyone in the console saluted Colonel Intifadah and called him al-akh al-Aqid, which meant "Brother Colonel. "

"The damaged rails have all been replaced. The device is in perfect working order. But I wonder if this is wise."

"What is wise? Everything I do is wise. How could it be otherwise? I am the Leader of the Revolution."

No, Koldunov thought, you are a barbarian in a gaudy uniform. Strand you back in the desert and you would be reduced to eating snakes to survive, like any other animal.

To Colonel Intifadah he said, "The American President has warned against another strike. He claims to know who is responsible."

"He lies."

"How do you know that?"

"All Americans lie. Now, let us go."

"But ... New York City?"

"If you could hit the White House, I would not be forced into this. I want death and destruction. I would settle for the Senate or the Pentagon. But you cannot guarantee me either of those, so I will strike where I can cause the most death."

"Death," the staff shouted suddenly. "Death to America!" Colonel Intifadah smiled brutally. His people were well-trained. Like circus dogs.

Koldunov turned his attention to the workers in the launch area. They were wrestling the locomotive toward the breach. Some pushed at it, their feet slipping on the rails; others pulled on ropes. The sight reminded Koldunov of drawings of the Egyptians dragging great stone blocks to erect the pyramids.

The La Maquinista engine disappeared into the breach of the EM Accelerator.

"Clear the launch area," Colonel Intifadah ordered. Al-Mudir repeated the order.

The staff retreated to the console.

Colonel Intifadah turned to Koldunov and said, "Now it is up to you."

"I will go and seal the Accelerator if you insist upon going through with this," Koldunov told him unhappily.

"I will accompany you."

"That is not necessary."

"But I insist," Colonel Intifadah returned, smiling oilily. Koldunov hesitated.

"As you wish," he said finally. Koldunov exited the console room and walked to the hatch keypad. Colonel Intifadah peered over his shoulder. Koldunov moved to the left and tapped the first number. Colonel Intifadah shifted to the right.

Koldunov hit the second and third numbers quickly, shifted again, and hit the remaining numbers. The hatch rolled into place like a fire door.

"Excellent," said Colonel Intifadah. His smile was very large, very knowing. The Colonel put his arm around Koldunov and started to lead him back to the console.

Involuntarily Koldunov clenched his fists at the Lobynian's touch. He felt wetness in his right hand. He looked down. There was a smear of green on the palm of his hand. His index finger pad was also green. The finger he had used to enter the code.

Koldunov looked back at the keypad. With horror, he saw that the keys he had pressed were green too. The sukin syn had placed an invisible chemical on the keypad. Obviously he had made a mental note of which keys had been pressed. But he did not know the exact combination. Nor did he have the code to unseal the hatch.

Koldunov smiled back. He would not be tricked like that again.

In the control room, Koldunov started the powering-up sequence. The bright underground lights dimmed. The EM Accelerator drew enormous power. From past experience, Koldunov knew that lights were dimming all over Lobynia's few cities, which dotted the Mediterranean coast. The first launch had blacked out Dapoli for two days.

"Power nominal," Al-Mudir told him.

Colonel Intifadah licked his thick lips in anticipation. "Setting inclination angle," Koldunov said mechanically. He punched in a set of numbers and pulled a rubberhandled grip.

Behind the thick hatch came a monstrous grinding of gears and motors. The EM Accelerator had been built under the sand with its muzzle aimed toward America. Like a giant mortar, the pitch of the barrel determined where its projectiles would land.

When the grinding ceased, the great barrel was positioned according to preset coordinates.

"Countdown," Koldunov called.

Al-Mudir began with ten. He counted down to four, skipped three-apparently because he was unfamiliar with the number-and when he got to zero, Colonel intifadah shouted: