The Lieutenant crossed his legs the other way, "Let's hear the rest of it, friend." "What for?" Bitterness tinged Cordell's voice. "You don't believe a word I'm saying." "Up to now I do." "Well, I said something or other to Alma--she's the Prof's secretary--and went on through the door to the hall that leads to the private lab. When I got--" * * * * * Kirk held up a hand. "Wait a minute. Your busting right in on the Professor like that doesn't sound right. Why not wait in the office for your wife?" "What for?" Cordell squinted at him in surprise. "He and I get ... got along fine. When Juanita first went to work for him he said to drop in at the lab any time, not to wait in the outer office like a freshman or something." "Go ahead." "Well...." The young man hesitated. "We're back to the part you _don't_ believe, Officer. I can't hardly believe it myself; but so help me, it's gospel. I _saw_ it!" "I'm waiting." Cordell said doggedly: "The lab door was open a crack. I heard a woman's voice in there, and it wasn't my wife's. It was a voice like--like cracked ice. You know: cold and kind of ... well ... brittle and--and deadly. That's the only way I can describe it. "Anyway, I sort of hesitated there, outside the door. I didn't want to go bulling in on something that wasn't none of my business ... but on the other hand I figured my wife was in there, else Alma would've said so." "You hear anything besides this collection of ice cubes?" The young man's jaw hardened. "I'm giving it the way it happened. You want the rest, or you want to trade wise cracks?" One of the men behind Kirk lunged forward, "Why, you cheap punk--" Kirk stopped him with an arm. "I'll handle this, Miller." To Cordell: "I asked you a question. Answer it." "I heard Professor Gilmore. Only a couple words, then two quick flashes of light lit up the frosted glass door panel. That's when I heard these two thumps like when somebody falls down. I shoved open the door fast ... and right then I saw _her_!" Kirk nodded for no apparent reason and was careful about knocking a quarter inch of ash off his cigar. "Tell me about her." The young man's hands were shaking again. He sucked at his cigarette and let the smoke come out with his words: "She was clear over on the other side of the lab ... standing a good two feet off the floor in the middle of a big blue ball of some kind of--of soft fire. _Blue_ fire that sort of _pulsed_--you know. Anyway, there she was: this hell of a good-looking blonde; looking right smack at me, and there was this funny kind of gun in her hand. She aimed it and I ducked just as this dim flash of light came out of it. Something hit me on the side of the head and I ... well, I guess I blanked out." [Illustration: _She was standing a good two feet off the floor in the middle of a glowing bubble that pulsed and wavered around her._] "Then what?"