But the sight that caused the arrivals to stop dead in disbelief, Thurien and Terran alike, was the group of figures framed in a large screen facing the floor. They were human, but not Lunarian. The leader standing at their head leered, his teeth showing white in a huge chin behind a short black beard as if he had been relishing this moment. ZORAC wasn't needed to translate his words. Hunt, Danchekker, and every Ganymean present were conversant with Jevlenese.

"Most obliging of you. My compliments go out to Calazar. I couldn't have planned this better myself," Broghuilio said. "I'm so sorry that I could not be there to receive you personally, but it would not have been convenient. However, I'm sure we will not be deprived of that pleasure for very long. We are not far away."

He looked aside and nodded to a Jevlenese wearing what looked the uniform of a ship's captain, who signaled affirmatively to somewhere. "Fire the lasers," a voice off-screen instructed.

Wearing shorts and a house robe, Caldwell sat on the arm of one of the chairs in the summer room of his home outside the city in Maryland, watching as dutifully as any grandfather would while his ten-year-old grandson, Timmy, tongue-between-teeth, produced a commendable rendition of Mozart's Drawing Room theme on the baby grand. It was one of those balmy summer days that were made for forgetting that organizations like UNSA and places like Thurien existed. Outside, Caldwell's daughter, Sharon, was with her husband, Robin, by the pool. Maeve was in the kitchen with Elaine, the housekeeper and cook, discussing ideas for dinner-or whatever else women discussed in kitchens.

Timmy finished with a flourish and emitted the breath he had been holding in his concentration. "Bravo!" Caldwell said, patting his palms appreciatively. "New York next season? Or will we have to wait a little longer?"

"I know all the scales too. Pick one-any one you like."

"How do I do that?" Caldwell was about as musical as a tin wash tub.

"Just pick a key then."

"Umm, okay… That one." Caldwell pointed at a black one.

"That's A flat. Now say major or minor."

"Oh, with me, I guess it has to be the major."

Timmy proceeded to run up the octave and back down. It sounded right, anyway.

Robin came in through the patio door. Clinking sounds from outside told of Sharon picking up dishes and glasses. "What's this? Showing off to grandpa, is he?"

"Sounds pretty good to me," Caldwell said. "I still think a crotchet's some kind of knitting."

"Are we having dinner in or going out? Have we decided yet?"

"The manager of that department is discussing it now."

Robin pulled a shirt over his shoulders and began buttoning it. "Sharon tells me you've got some kind of Open Day coming up at Goddard."

"Right."

"What's that all about?"

Caldwell raised his eyes. Even ten years previously, with secrecy and security still a hangover from the days of militarization, it would have been unthinkable. "Don't remind me. I was just enjoying my day off. It's on Tuesday. The powers that run our world have decided that since the public pays for most of what goes on at Goddard, the public has a right to see for itself. So we've got lectures, lab exhibits-you know, the usual kind of thing." A phone rang somewhere in the house.

"Sounds interesting. I might try and get along. Tuesday, you said?"

"If you don't mind hordes of tourists and kids taking over the staff dining room. It's a blessing Chris Danchekker isn't around right now."

"Gregg, it's for you." Maeve called from the next room.

"I'm incommunicado." Caldwell refused to carry a compad on his days off.

"It's Calazar. They put him through from ASD. He seems really serious."

"Oh. That's different… Excuse me, Robin." Caldwell went through to take the call.

Robin turned his head to Sharon, who was just coming in carrying a tray. "Calazar? Does he mean the Thurien leader?"

"That's right."

"Everyone knows that," Timmy put in.

Robin shook his head. "My father-in-law gets calls at home from other star systems? I'm never going to get used to this."

In the next room Caldwell moved around to face the screen. "Byrom, hello. What's up?"

"I've just got word from Gate Control. They've lost contact with the beacon. Everything went dead at once."

It was certainly strange for Thurien engineering to malfunction. But did it really warrant a call like this? "So we go to the standby unit," Caldwell said.

"That's dead, too. They both went out at the same time."

The implication was at once clear. Yes, it did warrant a call like this. The only explanation for both beacons going out together was that some agency had deliberately destroyed them-they had been spaced far enough apart to avoid simultaneous stray impact hazards.

But even worse, the beacons were VISAR's locator. They provided the only way to find that particular universe again. Without them, there was no way to bring the mission home.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Back up in the Shapieron, the rest of the mission personnel had been monitoring the progress of the shuttle's landing party as relayed from their headband pickups. Not having been part of the previous Jevlen expedition, Chien was the only one among them who didn't recognize Broghuilio immediately. Duncan and Sandy were speechless. Garuth was still staring bemusedly at the view of the screen down in the Agracon showing the Jevlenese, when ZORAC interrupted. "Commander, I think we may have a serious emergency. I've just lost all contact with both the M-space beacons. Hi-mag scan shows rapidly dispersing debris at both locations."

Garuth was too nonplused by the succession of bolts out of the blue to respond immediately. Shilohin had joined him when Broghuilio started speaking from the screen inside the room beneath the Agracon.

"They were obviously destroyed," she said. "It could only be the Jevlenese."

"Is there any indication of a direction that something might have come from?" Garuth checked with ZORAC.

"Negative."

It still made no sense. How could the Jevlenese be here? The probe that followed them through the tunnel would also have to be here, but careful checking and rechecking had shown no sign of it. Yet every one of the checks carried out in the reconnaissance visits further on in time had confirmed it to be out there and functioning, so how could it not be working now? Unless they had just happened to hit on a universe in which, unlike every other one that they had sampled, the probe had malfunctioned… No. Garuth rejected the probability. But if the Jevlenese were here ahead of the Shapieron after all, why was there no sign of their five ships? Nothing was adding up. He realized with a start that Broghuilio was speaking to him.

"I assume that the proceedings in Melthis are being followed by the rest of you out there in the Shapieron." Garuth noted the words "out there." So the Jevlenese were somewhere that was "in." Broghuilio went on, "It probably hasn't escaped your notice that we possess considerable firepower. You may take what just happened to your scouting devices as a demonstration of its potency. It is now trained upon your ship. In case your vision is still clouded in some way, allow me to summarize the situation as it now exists. You no longer have VISAR and the Thuriens to hide behind. A most interesting change of perspective, I think you must agree."

Garuth was under no illusions as to what that meant. After the Shapieron's eventual departure from Earth, Broghuilio had attempted its destruction in order to prevent a true picture of Earth from reaching the Thuriens-as opposed to the distorted one that the Jevlenese had been drawing. Only the timely establishing of direct communications between the Thuriens and Caldwell's UNSA group had prevented it. As Garuth continued to listen, still in a semi-daze, Chien's voice came through in his ear piece. The tone was subdued, indicating that ZORAC was connecting her privately.