Only five ships out at a time, Eberly thought as two hefty space men prodded him back toward the air-lock. All but a few of the invaders huddled together in a single city that could be utterly destroyed by the blast of one atomic bomb. Such a blast would also destroy the great radiation generators that held Earthmen in sway and the few remaining invaders would soon be overcome or driven away. And he was walking around with the only fuel for such a weapon in his stomach! They were crowding him into the air-lock now. What were they going to do? Not turn him loose. Dump him into space? A moment later, he knew. In only a few minutes they had come all the way from America to Africa! These men from space had science, all right. They must have learned how to overcome inertia somehow without giving the sensation of change in motion. He hadn't been aware of the slightest motion, yet he saw their city as soon as the outer seal of the lock opened and there was no mistaking that city. He was out of the ship and onto the rubbery surface of a street, being hurried, pushed along it toward some unknown destination. His captors bullied him along between tall, smooth buildings that seemed to be constructed of solid expanses of plastic, broken only by the unrevealing doors and windows. The people in the streets didn't jeer at or mock him. They only looked at him as one might look at a stinking, stray dog or simply ignored him completely. That was worse. He was suddenly pushed into a flight of steps and stumbled up them, in through broad doors. There were more steps and endless halls and elevators that took you up or down with no sensation of motion and finally a room, a laboratory of some sort it seemed. The one who had tried to question Eberly aboard the ship had followed along. He spoke to the man they found in the room. He might have been speaking mainly for Eberly's benefit, because he spoke in what he called English. "This one is in need to explain some things, but is not willing to say those thing," he sneered. "You are for making him hear what is say to him and to reply with not insults. Make it at once." Eberly was feeling a little ill. A diet of U-235, he realized, was not so good. He just couldn't help it. He belched loudly. Eyes turned toward him; puzzled eyes with questions in them. "What is that big word you are make? What it does mean?" "It has been called a 'burp'," Eberly said. "As far as you are concerned, you can think of it as the worst insult you know of." The Uranium capsule was a hard lump in his stomach. He didn't know much about Uranium--whether it was some effect of the Uranium or just the indigestibility of it--but he was feeling sicker by the minute. Pain stabbed across his chest and he burped again. Evidently, the space men could think of some pretty raw insults, judging from the expressions on their faces.