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"Yes, yes, I know you have far-reaching schemes, Arpad, but the important problem right now is invisibility. Thrush Central has decreed that we find a use for it—now!"

"Of course," a more chastened sounding McNulty replied. "I would never think of questioning the wisdom of Thrush Central. As you must be aware, however, there are certain problems involved, such as the shape of the field generated by the machine. And the sheer bulk is by no means—"

Forbes' tones were icy. "I am aware of the problems, my dear Arpad. What I—and Thrush Central—would like are solutions to those problems. Your time would be better devoted to finding answers than to reminding me of the problems. Is that clearly understood?"

McNulty's reply was almost inaudible. Morthley stifled a chuckle and whispered to Kerry, "McNulty is out of his league with Forbes. Only one that can stand up to him is Hunter. Wears a gold earring—or did until this evening. Fascinating individual."

"In the next room, the doorbell rang. Footsteps crossed the floor and the two listeners heard the door open and Forbes' voice welcome the caller. "Good man, Hunter; you made fine time getting here. Come on in. You can stay the night here and find yourself a new place in the morning. And perhaps you can come up with a practical use for the invisibility device. Arpad"—the voice dripped scorn—"hasn't been entirely successful."

Footsteps crossed the room again and there were sounds of someone getting settled. "I'm not going to be much help either," a voice deeper than Andy's said. "I can't see any practical use for it in its present stage. I've always thought we should wait until it's better developed."

"Are you presuming to argue with the decisions of Thrush Central?" Forbes asked ominously.

"Of course I am; at times that outfit seems to be composed exclusively of dimwits. They can't wait to get their hands on this device, and then they won't send the engineers and scientists necessary to exploit it properly. Morthley is just stalling for time and you know it' we need some capable Thrush people in here to work on that thing."

A frigid silence came from the next room. "See," Morthley whispered to Kerry. "What did I tell you? If they were all like that, the world would really be in trouble."

The silence was broken by McNulty busily offering to make drinks. There was the clink of ice, the sounds of pouring and more silence. Kerry could picture Forbes and Hunter glowering at one another while McNulty tried to think of something to inspire team effort.

Finally McNulty broke the silence again. "What about the dirigible?" he asked.

"The what?" came Forbes' startled reply.

"The dirigible, the one here in Wisconsin. Technically, of course, it's a Zeppelin, but—"

"Hunter, can you tell me what in God's name is he talking?"

"Didn't you know, sir?" McNulty hurried on. "We have a dirigible in a concealed hanger here in Wisconsin. Just dropping the idea to see if it floats, but we could mount the OTSMID on the dirigible. It's big enough to carry the weight, comparatively silent so we wouldn't be betrayed by the sound, and it's up in the air where the spherical field won't cause any problems. And it can be maneuvered slowly enough to avoid crashing into things." He hesitated a moment, before he went on, a self- satisfied tone creeping back into his voice. "Now that I think of it, it seems the ideal solution."

"Perhaps," Forbes grunted. "But could you first tell me what we're doing with a dirigible in the middle of Wisconsin?"

"Actually, it isn't in the middle," McNulty began pedantically, "but over in the west, not far from Minnesota. As to why we have it—well, it was also before your time, but—"

"If it was before my time, it was also well before your time, Arpad. How do you happen to know so much about it?"

"Well—" McNulty sounded a trifle embarrassed—"I'm interested in various aspects of you cultural heritage, as I think we all should be prepared for when we do take over the world. I belong to the Society for the Preservation of Rigid Lighter-Than-Air Vehicles, and—"

"Not to mention the Society of Canada for the Restoration of Absolute Monarchy," muttered Hunter.

"And when I found mention in the Thrush historical section of our acquisition of a dirigible, I naturally looked into the matter in some detail," McNulty continued, unperturbed. "It seems that Hitler grounded all German dirigibles after the Hindenburg disaster. One of them was offered to what was then our Third Reich Satrapy, and we purchased it. It was moved later, partly to avoid Allied bombers and partly to simplify the problem of transporting helium, since—"

"Don't lecture, Arpad. Why did we buy the ting in the first place?"

"Well, you never know when a dirigible will come in handy. Besides, it was a bargain, and—"

"Yes, I'm aware of Herr Schlossheimer's bargain-basement mentality. Sometimes I think he's working for the wrong side. However, as long as we have this anachronism—it will fly, won't it?"

"Oh, yes; certainly. It's been kept in readiness for instant use. A caretaker looks after it, and every year a maintenance team who used to work for Goodyear go over it thoroughly. And I've been out there myself a few times—on my own time, of course. I wouldn't think of doing this on Satrapy time.

"I'm sure you wouldn't. Very well, then. We're handicapped here anyway; we'll move the OTSMID to the dirigible site and arrange for tests. McNulty, since you seem so familiar with the situation, you get out there first thing in the morning and make advance arrangements. We'll want to move as soon as possible. Precisely where is this place anyway?"

Kerry was leaning against the door and holding her breath in anticipation when something resembling a vise clamped on the back of her neck and she was lifted from the floor. From the corner of her eye she saw Dr. Morthley, similarly suspended. A large booted foot kicked the door resoundingly. There were exclamations in the next room and the door was flung open by Forbes, who took the situation in at a glance.

"All right, Andy, put them down. What happened?"

"I took a look in to see how they was getting' along, and they wasn't in their room. So Green covered the door and I came in to see what they was up to. They was listening at the door here."

Forbes produced a wintry smile. "No harm done. They're in no position to use any knowledge gained, and we'll soon be leaving here." He walked over to the connecting door, inspected it briefly, and produced the wire jammed into the lock. "Ingenious. Green, get over here!"

Green approached, trying to avoid Forbes' icy stare.

"Don't you think this is ingenious, Green?" he asked, holding the wire up for Green's inspection. "Can you see it clearly enough to see just how clever it was of Dr. Morthley to have placed it in the lock when you placed him in the room?"

Green, blanching by now, muttered that he saw it.

"Then why didn't you see it when it was first put there? Thrush has very little use for men who can't keep proper guard over prisoners, and your next mistake like this will be your last. Do you understand?"