"I assure you, Mr. Payne, our visit to Earth was intended purely for observational purposes!" "What do you mean, _was_?" * * * * * Thompson's face was grim. The easy chair that had accommodated his small, roundish frame so perfectly now appeared to be uncomfortable for him. A redness crept into his cheeks and spread over his smooth, tight scalp. "The fact is that your government has known about us for six months. Our exact whereabouts has been a well guarded secret ... but they _were informed_ of our presence here on Earth." "Informed! But who could tell them ..." Chase broke in impatiently. "We are wasting time! We must get those recordings!" The interruption was dismissed with a wave of Thompson's hand. "Your government was informed by George Fisher." "George Fisher!" Harry gulped. "You see, Mr. Fisher ... that wasn't really his name, you understand ... was one of us ... a member of our observation team. After we arrived here ... well, you might say he defected, gave your government the benefit of his somewhat limited knowledge." Harry whistled. "And because of him your mission is no longer observational." "That remains to be seen." Harry leaned forward on the sofa. "You have any ideas, Mr. Thompson, about why he defected? I'm curious to know why a man is unhappy enough with his own lot to run away and put himself in the hands of a civilization that is in every way alien to him." Thompson's answer was brief and deliberately ambiguous. "Mr. Fisher was a traitor. What more can be said of him?" "So he didn't commit suicide," Harry muttered. "That's right, Mr. Payne." "I take it you're not sure of how much Fisher told the government before you got to him." "Mr. Fisher's limitations were familiar to us. It is the potential of your own scientists now that they have his information that we are most concerned with." Keep stalling, Harry reminded himself ... keep speculating, guessing, theorizing, anything for time. "So you know the project that Weapons Development is working on but you don't know how much progress has been made. And you want to place one of your own people in there to find out." "Thanks to you, we have succeeded in doing just that." Thompson smiled with satisfaction, having kept his part of a bargain. "Now about those recordings...." "I'm not through asking questions." "But I'm through answering them, Mr. Payne. Tell us where the recordings are." * * * * * Harry studied the clean, smooth surface of Thompson's face. There was a gentleness in his large, round eyes. There was also an unfriendliness. Harry had to keep stalling. He knew any answer he gave them would shorten his life expectancy by about thirty-five years. "You've gotten me into a mess of trouble, Mr. Thompson. I think you owe me a little more. My memory might prove clearer if I knew what was going on at Weapons Development."