"Mr. Stone, please," said Zwingli. "Those windows are tempered glass and very expensive. You could not break one, I think, but you could make an ugly mark on it."
Stone said nothing. Zwingli continued, "Are you familiar with the idea of parole, Mr. Stone?"
A pause. "Like prisoners in the war."
"Exactly so. I ask you to give me your parole, Mr. Stone, that you will not try to damage the airship or anyone in it while I am giving you the explanation to which you are entitled."
After a moment Stone said, "Okay. " He gave Van Loon a measured look as the captain released him.
Zwingli took a linen napkin out of the bar and handed it to Stone; he gave another to Van Loon. He took Stone's glass and filled it again while he talked.
"Now, Mr. Stone, you must realize-- Is that enough ginger ale? I myself will have one a little weaker. And you, Van Loon?"
"Just ginger ale, please, Mr. Zwingli, while I am on duty. "
"Very good. I was saying, Mr. Stone, you must realize that some people think it is a bad idea for everyone to go into the Cube. I am a member of a little informal organization, we call it the Club of Munich. That is a sort of joke; it really has no name, but some very large interests are concerned in it. Well, it is our view, the view of the Club of Munich, that if no more than a billion people are left behind, that is not enough to keep our industries going." He raised a hand. "I understand, that if the aliens come and the Earth is destroyed, that will not matter. But what if it doesn't happen?"
Stone said nothing.
"Are you perfectly sure that is going to happen, Mr. Stone?"
"No. I never said I was sure." Stone looked at him with respect and curiosity in his eyes. "So you're the one,'' he said.
"No, I am not 'the one.' Do you mean the Master Mind? I'm flattered, but actually I am rather a minor player. " Zwingli picked up the cigar box from the table and offered it. "Do you smoke these? No?" He took a cigar and held it under his nose a moment, then cut off the tip with a titanium clipper.
"You see,'' he said, "we are not hard-hearted people. When you decided not to stay and defend the lawsuit, it was our opinion that it would be better if you didn't appear in public anymore for a while, that's all. We could much more easily have murdered you, Mr. Stone, and dropped your body where it would never be found, but instead we have made room for you on this rather comfortable airship, and we will do our poor best to entertain you during your visit."
Stone looked at his glass and put it down. He said, "Where do I sleep?"
"Would you like to see your room? Come." All three of them got up, and Zwingli led the way across the poolside area to the red door with its little aluminum knocker. Stone stepped in and looked around.
"I hope you will find everything you need," said Zwingli. "If not, please use the console phone."
"Thanks." Stone turned and shut the door; they heard the lock click.
Zwingli shrugged. "Well, I think the worst is over, " he remarked in German as the two men walked back to the pool. "You had better go and relieve Clitterhouse at the observation post. I don't think he will stay in there very long, and I want her to be sitting here when he comes out. Is there anything else?"
"Do you want to see the ring?"
"Oh, yes, please."
"I'll ask Farber to bring it to you, then."
"Yes, do. I'm going to my office."
Violet Clitterhouse was just sitting down beside the pool when Stone emerged from his room, looking angry. "Where's Zwingli?" he demanded.
She put her hand on the poolside console to tum down the music. "I think he's gone to his office. Can I do anything?"
"The phone in there doesn't work. "
"I'll get someone to look at it. Were you trying to call Mr. Zwingli?"
"No, New York."
"I see. Did you just want to leave a message, or did you want to actually talk to someone?"
"I want to talk to somebody. Judas Priest."
"Well, you can't talk to anybody outside, you know. But you could give me the number and the message, and I'll see what I can do."
"You will, huh? I suppose you'll censor it first?"
"Of course I will."
He came around the end of the pool and sat down. "You're the stewardess, right? What's your name again?"
"Clitterhouse. I'm not really a stewardess; the Bayern doesn't have one. That was the purser's jacket I was wearing. I'm what you call a registered nurse."
"You are?"
"Yes, because your health is very important, and of course Mr. Zwingli's too."
"Why were you pretending to be a stewardess?"
"We thought you might be calmer if you saw a woman."
"You did, huh?" Stone rubbed his right ring finger absently, then glanced down when he saw what he was doing. "I feel naked without it," he said apologetically.
"Your ring? I'm sorry about that, but of course Mr. Zwingli couldn't take any chances."
"No, I guess he couldn't. Where is the ring now?"
"It's in a safe place in Beijing. You'll get it back when we land there again, don't worry."
"Unless I'm not good, and then I won't get it back at all, right?"
She lowered her head and looked up at him aslant. "I wouldn't put it that way."
"No, huh? You're English, aren't you?"
"Yes, in fact."
"How'd you ever get hooked up with this gang?"
"Oh, it's a long story. I was in Hamburg, you know, rather at loose ends, and this German couple said what about tutoring their children. Well, they were nice kids, and we got on, but that only lasted three years, because the older kid went to boarding school and the younger one was killed in a bike accident. And then, you know, they offered me other jobs, which was extraordinarily decent of them in the circumstances."
She looked at Stone tolerantly. "If by 'gang' you mean a gang of criminals, I don't think that's quite fair. Herr Zwingli is a perfectly respectable industrialist, pillar of the church and so on. He's the grandfather of the kids I was tutoring, by the way."
"You think it was okay for him to kidnap me?"
"Well, I see your point, but do you think it was okay for you to entice most of the human race into this Cube of yours?"
"You don't take much off of anybody, do you?"
"No, not much." She stood up. "Would you like to see over the ship now?"
"Okay."
"All right, follow me, please. Right here opposite the deep end of the pool is the gymnasium, and the showers and dressing rooms and so on." She opened the door to let him glimpse the polished floor, the exercise machines, Indian clubs and weights.
"And here on the other side are the bar and dining room. The lounge is down the other way, past your stateroom; we can look in there later. " The rooms were empty, shining with chrome and silver leather.
"What's with these funny colors?" Stone asked.
"The Bayern is decorated as much as possible like the original Graf Zeppelin, although it's a great deal bigger, and the design is really more like the Hindenburg. Herr Zwingli feels a nostalgia for the old days of rigid flight."
"He does, huh?"
"Yes. Now this brings us to the starboard side of the airship. This passage goes all the way round on four sides, so that if you like running, or jogging, you can do it here till you drop. Let's go back this way."
Stone looked out the windows as they walked. "It's all clouds down there now," he said. "How high are we?"
"I should guess we're at cruising altitude now-two thousand feet. "
"It doesn't feel like we're moving at all."
"No, that's the great thing about airships; and they're very quiet."