"Yes! But only as it modifies the sounds." She leaned toward Langsmith. "Dr. Langsmith, I believe that this language is a _flexional_ language with the flexional endings and root changes contained entirely in the bodily movements!" "Hmmmmmmm." Langsmith studied the smoke spiraling ceilingward from his pipe. "Fascinating idea!" "We can assume that this is a highly standardized language," said Francine. "Basing the assumption on their high standard of civilization. The two usually go hand in hand." Langsmith nodded. "Then the gestures, the sounds would tend to be ritual," she said. "Mmmmm-hmmmm." "Then ... may we have the help to go into this idea the way it deserves?" she asked. "I'll take it up at the next top staff meeting," said Langsmith. He got to his feet. "Don't get your hopes up. This'll have to be submitted to the electronic computers. It probably has been cross-checked and rejected in some other problem." She looked up at him, dismayed. "But ... Dr. Langsmith ... a computer's no better than what's put into it. I'm certain that we're stepping out into a region here where we'll have to build up a whole new approach to language." "Now, don't you worry," said Langsmith. He frowned. "No ... don't worry about _this_." "Shall we go ahead with what we're doing then?" she asked. "I mean--do we have permission to?" "Yes, yes ... of course." Langsmith wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "General Speidel has called a special meeting tomorrow morning. I'd like to have you attend. I'll send somebody to pick you up." He waved a hand at the litter around Francine. "Carry on, now." There was a pathetic emptiness to the way he put his pipe in his mouth and left the room. Francine stared at the closed door. She felt herself trembling, and recognized that she was deathly afraid. _Why?_ she asked herself. _What have I sensed to make me afraid?_ * * * * * Presently, Ohashi came in carrying a paper bag. "Saw Langsmith going out," he said. "What did he want?" "He wanted to know what we're doing." Ohashi paused beside his chair. "Did you tell him?" "Yes. I asked for help." She shook her head. "He wouldn't commit himself." "I brought ham sandwiches," said Ohashi. Francine's chin lifted abruptly. "Defeated!" she said. "That's it! He acted completely defeated!" "What?" "I've been trying to puzzle through the strange way Langsmith was acting. He just radiated defeat." Ohashi handed her a sandwich. "Better brace yourself for a shock," he said. "I ran into Tsu Ong, liaison officer for our delegation ... in the cafeteria." The Japanese raised the sandwich sack over his chair, dropped it into the seat with a curious air of preciseness. "The Russians are pressing for a combined attack on the Galactic ship to wrest their secret from them by force."