"In the six months before this spaceship landed, there were some twenty-eight mysterious deaths," said Langsmith. "More than that, really, because innocent bystanders died, too. These accidents had a curious similarity: In each instance there was a fatality of a foremost expert in the field of language, cryptoanalysis, semantics.... "The people who might have solved this problem died before the problem was even presented," said Speidel. "Don't you think that's a curious coincidence." She was unable to speak. "In one instance there was a survivor," said Langsmith. "A British jet transport crashed off Ceylon, killing Dr. Ramphit U. The lone survivor, the co-pilot, said a brilliant beam of light came from the sky overhead and sliced off the port wing. Then it cut the cabin in half!" * * * * * Francine put a hand to her throat. Langsmith's cautious hand movements suddenly fascinated her. "Twenty-eight air crashes?" she whispered. "No. Two were auto crashes." Langsmith puffed a cloud of smoke before his face. Her throat felt sore. She swallowed, said: "But how can you be sure of that?" "It's circumstantial evidence, yes," said Speidel. He spoke with thin-lipped precision. "But there's more. For the past four months all astronomical activity of our nation has been focused on the near heavens, including the moon. Our attention was drawn to evidence of activity near the moon crater Theophilus. We have been able to make out the landing rockets of more than five hundred space craft!" "What do you think of that?" asked Langsmith. He nodded behind his smoke screen. She could only stare at him; her lips ashen. "These _frogs_ have massed an invasion fleet on the moon!" snapped Speidel. "It's obvious!" _They're lying to me!_ she thought. _Why this elaborate pretense?_ She shook her head, and something her husband had once said leapt unbidden into her mind: "_Language clutches at us with unseen fingers. It conditions us to the way others are thinking. Through language, we impose upon each other our ways of looking at things._" Speidel leaned forward. "We have more than a hundred atomic warheads aimed at that moon-base! One of those warheads will do the job if it gets through!" He hammered a fist on the table. "But first we have to capture this ship here!" _Why are they telling me all this?_ she asked herself. She drew in a ragged breath, said: "Are you sure you're right?" "Of course we're sure!" Speidel leaned back, lowered his voice. "Why else would they insist we learn their language? The first thing a conqueror does is impose his language on his new slaves!" "No ... no, wait," she said. "That only applies to recent history. You're getting language mixed up with patriotism because of our own imperial history. Bob always said that such misconceptions are a serious hindrance to sound historical scholarship." "We know what we're talking about, Dr. Millar," said Speidel.