Light filled the scanning room, and the ship rocked as it was buffeted by the blast. The light and the heat and the sound tore at them, and they clung to the stanchions on the scanning room until the ship stopped rocking and then Grant made a quick dash for the autopilot, which was chattering wildly under the impact of atomic by-products. It stabilized itself, however, and the ship continued on down through the billowing dust to the ground. "That," growled Lindsay, "loses us Lacy and proves nothing." "Not entirely," drawled Grant. "It does prove that whatever agency is directing these things does not require the presence of this ship as a tip-off." "A lot of help that is." "Well, I'm nominated for the next try. Unanimously. I'm the only one voting any more." Jenna gasped. "What's the matter, Jenna?" asked Grant. "I just realized that you were all that's left. Just like that--and in a few hours. Poor Lacy." "Lacy?" said Grant. "He--got his release. It's what he's wanted. May we all find what we want as quickly." "I hate to see any one courting death, though," said Jenna. "My only regret for Lacy is that we don't know whether he--and Garrard, by the way--went in the same way." "Meaning?" asked Grant. "The rest got it as they headed out to defuse the things," said Lindsay. "At about a hundred feet. We can only assume that Garrard and Lacy went in the same way. I'd like better than an assumption." "Why?" "A hundred feet is too distant to detect the human body without radiation. It presupposes either a warning of some type or--" Lindsay scowled and stopped. He mumbled something about a conference with General Haynes. He stepped to the autopilot and set it for the next location. Then he left to seek the privacy of his own office from which to call General Haynes. As he left, Jenna lifted a worried face to Jack Grant. "Jack," Jenna said, "he doesn't trust me any more." "It does look bad," said Grant. "After all, every one of them came in your presence." "They came in your presence, and his." "Admitted. But--" "I know," she said, with deep feeling. "But I can't help being Martian. My loyalty is with Ralph." "Jenna," said Grant softly, "we know that. All of us know it. Yet, there's some agency that is tipping them off. There's been robombs at the other sites for hours now, and not one of them has gone off. They're tying up production until we arrive, and they'll continue to tie up the area until we make a false move. Something or someone is giving them the tip-off. I know it isn't me, you know it isn't you, and Ralph knows it isn't him. The areas are completely cleared, but, of course, there may have been watchers. But Garrard would have gone out unlighted, and possibly Lacy would have done the same." "Jack," she pleaded, "do you suspect me, too?" "Jenna, you know I do. I rationalize myself, and tell myself that it isn't so. But nevertheless, there is that lingering doubt. Evidence, Jenna. Evidence."