Then, before she could protest, he strode to the window, raised it, climbed out, and shoved free--using his gravitor, of course, as he did. She stared at him from the window until he touched ground. Then he waved to her and went around the house to the garage. She came out a few minutes later, dressed in a warm, woolen suit. Morrow explained the project to her as they drove downtown. When they got out on the highway, approaching an all-night garage, she dropped him off. A half-hour later, she was back. "Got the batteries?" he asked, piling into the front seat beside her. "Yes, I got them," she said. They drove on out to Lakeshore Lodge. She was grimly silent all the way. No questions, no comments whatsoever. She kept her eyes straight ahead on the highway, her face expressionless and a little pale in the passing lights. _She doesn't like it_, Morrow thought bitterly. But if she didn't like it, why didn't she say so? Did she think this female silent treatment would work on him? Gwyn should know him well enough to realize that such typically feminine maneuvers always have the opposite effect of what they were supposed to have on him. Silent disapproval, huh? Then the devil with her! But such obvious deceit wasn't like Gwyn, either, he realized. Maybe it was something else, then. Maybe she had gotten the idea that he didn't want her opinion. Suppose she wasn't asking questions because she thought he didn't want her to ask anything! Possible, he thought. Even probable. He might have overdone it when he tried to impress her with the need for absolute secrecy. Maybe she thought he'd merely come to her because he needed help, that she wasn't included in the project itself-- But _was_ she? Morrow realized, then, that he wanted her to come back with him. Back to California, to the workshop-- What would the others say about that? And did he want to expose Gwyn to the sort of risks they were taking? They drove up to the Lodge and parked. "I'll have to take the batteries in one at a time, I guess," he said dourly. "Where?" She seemed to rouse herself out of her own thoughts. Morrow pointed across the lake. "The ship's over there, beyond the trees. Remember the place?" "Oh!" she exclaimed softly. He couldn't see her face in the darkness. "I'd better call them," he said, opening the car door. He stepped out into the snow, straightened up beside the car, and swung his helmet over his head. There was a tiny, pocket-sized walkie-talkie built into the helmet collar under his chin; he flipped its switch and waited for the set to warm up. Then he began calling quietly. "Angel One to Cloud Two. Angel One to Cloud Two--do you hear me? Come in. Over." "_Cloud Two to Angel One_," Smitty's voice was a tiny, metallic sound inside the helmet. "_Hear you faint but clear. Give your position, over._"