"I'm sorry," said Francine. "It's just that I feel so hopeless today." "Well, what have we learned today?" asked Goré. "Nothing new with us," said Zakheim. Goré cleared his throat. "That goes double for me." He looked at Ohashi. The Japanese shrugged. "We achieved no reaction from the Galactic, Kobai." "Anthropomorphic nonsense," muttered Zakheim. "You mean naming him Kobai?" asked Ohashi. "Not at all, Zak. That's the most frequent sound he makes, and the name helps with identification. We don't have to keep referring to him as 'The Galactic' or 'that creature in the spaceship'." Goré turned to Francine. "It was like talking to a green statue," she said. "What of the lecture period?" asked Goré. "Who knows?" she asked. "It stands there like a bowlegged professor in that black leotard. Those sounds spew out of it as though they'd never stop. It wriggles at us. It waves. It sways. Its face contorts, if you can call it a face. We recorded and filmed it all, naturally, but it sounded like the usual mish-mash!" "There's something in the gestures," said Ohashi. "If we only had more competent pasimolgists." "How many times have you seen the same total gesture repeated with the same sound?" demanded Zakheim. "You've carefully studied our films," said Ohashi. "Not enough times to give us a solid base for comparison. But I do not despair--" "It was a rhetorical question," said Zakheim. "We really need more multi-linguists," said Goré. "Now is when we most miss the loss of such great linguists as Mrs. Millar's husband." * * * * * Francine closed her eyes, took a short, painful breath. "Bob...." She shook her head. _No. That's the past. He's gone. The tears are ended._ "I had the pleasure of meeting him in Paris shortly before the ... end," continued Goré. "He was lecturing on the development of the similar sound schemes in Italian and Japanese." Francine nodded. She felt suddenly empty. Ohashi leaned forward. "I imagine this is ... rather painful for Dr. Millar," he said. "I am _very_ sorry," said Goré. "Forgive me." "Someone was going to check and see if there are any electronic listening devices in this room," said Ohashi. "My nephew is with our recording section," said Goré. "He assures me there are no hidden microphones here." Zakheim's brows drew down into a heavy frown. He fumbled with the clasp of his briefcase. "This is very dangerous," he grunted. "Oh, Zak, you always say that!" said Francine. "Let's quit playing footsy!" "I do not enjoy the thought of treason charges," muttered Zakheim. "We all know our bosses are looking for an advantage," she said. "I'm tired of these sparring matches where we each try to get something from the others without giving anything away!" "If your Dr. Langsmith or General Speidel found out what you were doing here, it would go hard for you, too," said Zakheim.