A plane motor started up. Then another.

Three Scot pilots ran out of the ops room, getting into flight clothes and gripping maps.

And all the time Sir Robert was at the exit shouting, “Come on! Come on!”

From the open door of ops, Stormalong's voice was rising above the din. “Victoria? Victoria? Damn it man, keep your radios manned! Take every mine pump you've got. Every atmosphere hose and pump. Got that? I know it's in clear! All right.” A woman communicator in there was taking over. She started to chatter

Pali.

“Come on!” Sir Robert was shouting at the delaying few. “Damn it, Edinburgh is burning!”

A plane took off. Sir Robert was gone. Another plane. Another, another, another. From the whip of sound they were lancing up to hypersonic in seconds. Jonnie wondered whether they were leaving any aircraft at all.

Lord Dom came over to Jonnie. His big, liquidy face looked a bit concerned. “What's happening? Are you abandoning this area? You realize that in a temporary suspension of hostilities it is irregular to use it to arrange the redisposition of military forces to achieve the advantage of surprise when hostilities are resumed. I would caution-”

Jonnie had had just about enough of being Chinko polite for one day. He was worried about Chrissie and Pattie. And very concerned about his village people who had gone to Russia. “They are on their way to try to dig hundreds of people out of collapsed shelters,” said Jonnie. “I don't think your rules apply to noncombatants, Lord Dom. And even if they did, not even you could stop those Scots. They're on their way to save what they can of the Scottish nation.”

Jonnie walked into ops. The place was in a shambles left by the hasty departure. Only the Buddhist woman communicator and Stormalong were there. She had finished her messages and was sitting back, head bowed, exhausted. They had been on straight duty for days without rest. This was the first

“Russia?” said Jonnie to Stormalong.

“I sent the whole contingent at Singapore there over half an hour ago. They took everything they had. It 's just a flight over the Himalayas and they'll be there in another couple of hours. I don't know what they'll find– we haven't heard from Russia for a couple of days.”

“Edinburgh?” said Jonnie. “Nothing for the last hour.”

“Did I hear you sending everyone at Victoria to Scotland?” said Jonnie. “What about the prisoners there?”

“Oh, they gave Ker a blast rifle.” He saw Jonnie's look. “Ker says he'll blow their heads off if they so much as move an eyebone! They left that old woman from the Mountains of the Moon to handle their diets. And all your vital notes are safe-' He was about to add “here” when he saw Lord Dom at the door and looked at him.

Lord Dom said, “I didn't wish to intrude but I couldn't help overhearing. Haven't you left this whole conference area, maybe this whole continent, maybe the planet, without air cover?”

Jonnie shrugged and pointed to Stormalong. “There's he and I."

This startled Lord Dom. He quivered a bit.

Stormalong laughed and said, “Why, that's twice as many as there used to be! Not long ago, there was just him!”

He pointed at Jonnie.

Lord Dom blinked. He stared at Jonnie. The young man didn't seem worried at all.

Lord Dom went off and told his colleagues about this. They discussed it considerably among themselves.

They decided they had better keep a careful eye on Jonnie.

Chapter 10

Jonnie stood outside the ops room door and looked around the bowl. How quiet it seemed.

The older Chinese children had quieted the younger ones and gotten them to bed. The dogs were silent, exhausted from the excitement of a while ago. The emissaries had all gone off to their apartments or guard duty over Schleim. There were no sentries in sight. The place seemed deserted. Even though it was not late yet.

To one brought up in the silences of mountains, the calm was welcome.

It might be the sort of calm that is followed by blasting storm. But it was a moment's calm.

Too many situations were running all at the same time for him to have any peace of mind. Who knew what would happen as a result of the emissary trial: he did not trust them. What would occur after this “temporary suspension” of war? What would they find in Edinburgh? In Russia? He told himself he had better not let his mind dwell long on these last two places or he would edge over into anxiety and grief.

That book he had read– that said you could handle things if you did one of them at a time: good advice.

Psychlo! He had been living in such a tornado that the question of Psychlo had become a sort of dull pain like a toothache. Was there any danger of counterattack? Or was that just a shadow?

Ha! This was a thing he had been waiting for. He had a transshipment rig. It was in fine working order. There were no planes in the air, no motors running. Psychlo! He would end right now that question of threat.

He strode over to the console and almost fell over Angus. The Scot was sitting in a pool of light, working intensely with some rods and wheels. He didn't look up but he knew Jonnie was there.

“While you were settling up with Schleim," said Angus, fingers flying around his work, “I parked a picto-recorder on a peak on Tolnep to watch that moon. Reaction motors don't mess up a firing– only teleportation motors do. So I just fired it. But that was the only gyrocage assembled. I’m putting together a spare.

“Angus,” said Jonnie, “we are going to find out what happened to Psychlo! We've got the machine, we've got the time.”

“Give me about half an hour,” said Angus.

Jonnie saw he needed no help and he wasn't going to stand around here and wait.

En route to his room he looked in at the hospital. They had left a woman nurse, an elderly Scot, and she resented being left behind. She looked up from a patient as Jonnie entered. “It’s time for your sulfa and your shot!” she said threateningly. Jonnie knew he shouldn't have come in here. He had just wanted to see how the wounded were doing.

The two fractured-skull cases were lying in their beds. They seemed all right. But being Scots and left behind, they eyed him dully. The two burned antiaircraft gunners seemed all right but, being Scots, they didn't want to be there with Edinburgh burning.

“Take off your jacket!” snapped the nurse. Then she took the bandage off his arm and looked at the arrow wound. “Hah!” she said, sounding disappointed, “it won't even leave a scar!”

She made him take sulfa powder and wash it down with water. She jabbed an inch of needle into his good arm and squirted B Complex stingingly with a savage turn. She took his temperature and counted his pulse. “You're perfectly well!” It sounded like an indictment.

Jonnie had had a lot of practice in diplomacy that day. He felt sorry for these people. Jacket and helmet dangling from his hand he said, “I sure am glad you people stayed. I may need lots of help defending this area.”

After a moment of amazement, they all came alive. They said he could count on them! And when he left they were all chattering about what they could do and smiling– even the nurse.

With the exodus of the adult Chinese, he hadn't really expected to find Mr.

Tsung. But there he was. He had laid out a blue jacket on the bed along with some other items for change. But he was bowing and beaming. With his hands tucked in his sleeves, he was going up and down like a pump.

He was trying to say something but his English wasn't up to it and suddenly he bolted and came back with Chief Chong-won.

“Well, at least you're here,” said

Jonnie. “I thought the place was near empty!”

“Oh, no,” said the chief. “The Coordinators are all gone. But we have guests, you know. The emissaries. So I’m here and the cook; there's an electrician and two antiaircraft gunners.” He started counting off on his fingers. “Must be a dozen people left. We do have one problem.” He saw Jonnie go alert. “It’s the food. I thought we'd be feeding all these emissaries and we got ready to fix the fanciest Chinese food you ever heard of. But they don't eat our food! So we have all this food and nobody to eat it! Too bad!”