Leaping over them, Dave went to their helicopter and climbed in. He snapped the radio switch and said, "We're back, reporting." "What happened, M-22?" the speaker answered tinnily, and Dave cheered himself for guessing correctly that the other pilot or observer had reported before investigating. "Complete wreck," he said shortly. "The men?" "Dead." "You're certain, M-22?" "I am." "What was the waving, then?" "Piece of canvas. I thought it was one of them. The light, you know." "Ah, yes. Over there it is dark. All right, proceed as directed and return to this wreck once the crystal is placed!" "Check. M-22 signing off." Dave snapped off the radio and rummaged about in the helicopter. He found the crystal, packed neatly in an aluminum box in the compartment below the dash. Now to find something to write upon. Nothing he had available would suffice. And if he took the crystal into the laboratory to write upon a wall, the video cameras would see him and the enemy would blow the crystal up, and himself with it. There was-- Jane! Dave grinned happily. He lifted the 'copter and drove it madly across the plain, following the ghostly road he recalled so well, until he came to the farmhouse of the Nolan family. Shamelessly, Dave lifted the 'copter around the farmhouse, peering into the windows until he located Jane's bedroom. He took the crystal from its packing and forced it through the window screen. Then he took the whole helicopter in through the house until he was sitting beside her bed. He tapped her shoulder with the crystal until she awoke. "Uh--what?" she gasped, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She snapped on the light and sat up in bed. She saw the crystal, apparently floating before her eyes, and she jumped with fright. Then Dave took the 'copter close to the wall. He scratched in the plaster: _Jane. This is Dave!_ "Dave!" she breathed. _Yes!_ It was hard on the plaster, but necessary. "You can hear me?" Dave pointed to the "Yes" with the crystal. "You can see me?" Again came the point. And Jane hurriedly wrapped herself in the sheet and blushed. Then she threw away the sheet and said. "It seems that this is no time for modesty, Dave." He tapped the printed "Yes" once again as Jane reached for her dressing gown and slipped into it. "What do you want?" she asked. _Carbon paper_, he wrote on the wall. Jane disappeared, and Dave smiled at the scribbling on the wall. Its disjointed message was bearing fruit. But what could one make out of: _Jane. This is Dave!_ _Yes!_ _Carbon paper._ Nothing but the safety of America! * * * * * Instead of carbon paper, Jane brought a "Magic Slate", one of those wax-based tablets covered with a celluloid sheet that can be written on with a stylus and then erased by lifting the celluloid. It was better than carbon paper, and Dave cheered to himself at her brain-work. "What is that?" she asked.