Even years after Lee never understood just what had happened or how it could have happened that his position to his father became reversed with such startling suddenness. In the extremity of the situation he had addressed his father with the authority of of a commander toward one of his aids--and the father had accepted the son's command unquestioningly. "Semper," he had said, "I have always considered you a military nincompoop. I was mistaken, son, I apologize. Now let me grab my hat and coat. You kept the taxi waiting? Good: tell the man to go to the airport, and let her rip." * * * * * At 5 p.m. the Flying Greyhound dropped on Cephalon airport and there was Oona looking very pale, but very beautiful in the gathering dusk. She grabbed Lee by the arm leading him to the other side of the hangar where stood her little jetticopter plane. "Let's get in here," she said. "I'm freezing and I don't want you to be seen around here." She didn't put on the lights, yet even in the dark Lee could see the golden helmet of her hair shimmering like the pale gold in the halo of the Virgin as the primitive art of Tuscany presented her a thousand years ago. She nestled the soft fur of her coat against Lee's shoulders and as she did he felt her shivering. He put a protecting arm around her, careful to do it as a friend, careful to suppress the surge of blood which started burning in his veins. She seemed to be groping for words; it took a little while before she began to speak, with clarity and simplicity as she always did but with an audible effort to keep composed: "I've brought you a suitcase, Semper, with a few necessities. And I brought you some money, later you can send me your check. And here are the keys of the plane. Fly over to Mexico; go back to Australia from there or anywhere you want, but _do_ get out of this country and do it quick. I couldn't tell you that over the phone and I shouldn't be telling this to you now, but I feel I must. "You're in danger and it's serious. Why? I don't know, but Howard seems to suspect your loyalty. He also seems to think that you've gone out of your mind. And Howard has taken measures; he has ordered re-examination of your broad aptitude test. He has voiced his suspicion as to your sanity to Bondy and Mellish and you know what kind of yes-men those fellows are in the face of an authority like Scriven's. Trust them to discover something wrong with you, trust them to give the test some kind of a convenient twist. They're going to have you certified, they're going to put you into a mental institution, Semper. "Do you get that? Do you realize that it's fate worse than death? Do you understand that there is nothing you can do to escape that fate except by flight? I have no idea when it's going to be, this trap they're going to spring on you; but for God's sake, Semper, get going as long as there's still time. Any moment now some plainclothesman might grab you by the arm and then...."