The alien, his hands still out from his sides, walked slowly toward the RJ-37, his legs moving with a strange, loose suppleness. He came right up to the forward window and peered inside--at least, the attitude of his head suggested peering; within the dark purple helmet, the features could not be distinguished clearly. At last, the figure stepped back and started making wigwag signs with his arms. "Smart boy," said MacIlheny. "He recognizes that the ship is remote controlled. Wonder what he's trying to say." The alien waved his hands and made gestures, but there was no recognizable pattern. None of the hand-signals meant anything to the Earthmen. Blake leaned over and whispered into MacIlheny's ear. "Hadn't we better call the President, Mac? He'll want to know." MacIlheny considered for a moment, then nodded. "Give him a direct beam on what's coming over this screen. Then give me a pair of earphones connected to his office. I want to be able to hear what he says, but I don't want him countermanding my orders to Major Hamacher." * * * * * The alien was still making his meaningless signals when Blake brought in a pair of earphones and clamped them on MacIlheny's head. A throat mike around his neck completed the communication circuit. "Can you hear me, Mr. President?" MacIlheny asked. "Yes. Your man Blake explained everything to me." "Got any advice?" "Not yet. Let's see what happens. By the way, I've given the impression to the rest of the world that it was through your efforts that Number Four avoided crashing; I don't think we'd better let this leak out just yet." "Right. Meantime, I'm going to try to capture that lad." "How?" asked the President. "Invite him into the ship and bring him back with it." "All right," said the President, "but be careful." "He's given up," said Blake, gesturing toward the screen. The alien had given up his incomprehensible gesticulating and stood with his odd arms folded in an uncomfortable-looking knot. "Major," said MacIlheny, "open the cargo hold." The officer looked puzzled, but did as he was told. After all, the President himself had ordered him to obey MacIlheny. He touched a button on one side of the control panel. After four or five seconds, a light came on above it, indicating that the cargo hold of the RJ-37 was open. The alien evidently saw the door swing inward; he hesitated for a moment, then went around to the side of the ship, out of range of the TV camera. But he didn't go inside immediately. MacIlheny hadn't expected him to; the alien couldn't be _that_ stupid. After perhaps half a minute, the alien figure reappeared and strode deliberately back to his own ship. He opened a port in the side and disappeared within. Then, quite suddenly, the screen went blank. "What happened?" snapped MacIlheny.