"Just one question, Langenscheidt," he shouted above the roar of the engine. "Is today the twelfth of September?" His only answer was a stiff nod. "And the year--of course it is--1971?" "Yes, of course. No more questions. You will talk to the _Oberst_, not to me." They were silent after that, trying to keep the dust out of their eyes. A few minutes later they pulled aside and stopped while the long, heavy form of a tank transporter rumbled by them, going in the opposite direction. Evidently the Germans wanted the capsule as well as the men who had arrived in it. When the long vehicle had passed the half-track ground forward again. It was growing dark when the shapes of two large tanks loomed up ahead, cannons following them as they bounced down the rutted track. Behind these sentries was a car park of other vehicles, tents and the ruddy glow of gasoline fires burning in buckets of sand. The half-track stopped before the largest tent and at gunpoint the two astronauts were pushed through the entrance. An officer, his back turned to them, sat writing at a field desk. He finished his work while they stood there, then folded some papers and put them into a case. He turned around, a lean man with burning eyes that he kept fastened on his prisoners while the captain made a report in rapid German. "That is most interesting, Langenscheidt, but we must not keep our guests standing. Have the orderly bring some chairs. Gentlemen permit me to introduce myself. I am Colonel Schneider, commander of the 109th Panzer division that you have been kind enough to visit. Cigarette?" The colonel's smile just touched the corners of his mouth, then instantly vanished. He handed over a flat package of Player's cigarettes to Gino, who automatically took them. As he shook one out he saw that they were made in England--but the label was printed in German. "And I'm sure you would like a drink of whisky," Schneider said, flashing the artificial smile again. He placed a bottle of _Ould Highlander_ on the table before them, close enough for Gino to read the label. There was a picture of the highlander himself, complete with bagpipes and kilt, but he was saying _Ich hätte gern etwas zu trinken WHISKEY!_ The orderly pushed a chair against the back of Gino's legs and he collapsed gratefully into it. He sipped from the glass when it was handed to him--it was good scotch whisky. He drained it in a single swallow. * * * * * The orderly went out and the commanding officer settled back into his camp chair, also holding a large drink. The only reminder of their captivity was the silent form of the captain near the entrance, his hand resting on his holstered gun. "A most interesting vehicle that you gentlemen arrived in. Our technical experts will of course examine it, but there is a question--" "I am Colonel Danton Coye, United States Air Force, serial number...."