Two of the larger blunt-arrowhead craft flew by slowly and took up positions at the north and south ends of the compound, hovering about twenty-five meters above the surface.

"Do you guarantee the safety of a negotiator?" the voice from the cross asked.

Hoffman glanced at Gerhardt. "Make sure," she said. Then, more loudly in the direction of the cross, "Yes. Give us some time." Gerhardt used his radio to contact the units in all chambers.

"Are you prepared now?" the voice asked.

"Yes," Hoffman said, at a nod from Gerhardt.

The craft at the southern point dropped gracefully to the ground ten or eleven meters from the center of the compound, lowering a single pylon as it touched down. A hatch in the nose dilated.

A man in a black suit stepped from the hatch and quickly examined the compound, then focused on Hoffman. He had walnut-colored hair cut in three stripes, with shorter fuzz between; he lacked nostrils and his ears were large and round.

"My name is Santiago," he said as he approached. He held out his hand to Gerhardt, who was closest; Gerhardt took it and shook it once, then backed away. The man approached Hoffman and offered his hand again. Hoffman grasped it lightly; the man squeezed no harder than she did. "I apologize for your distress, whatever the necessity. I am instructed to tell you that all of your people are now honored guests of the Axis City," he said. "I'm afraid you can't stay in the Thistledown much longer, however."

"We don't have anyplace else to go," Hoffman said, feeling overpowered, more helpless than she had felt even when leaving Earth on the shuttle.

"You are in my care," Santiago said. "We must gather everybody together—your researchers, soldiers, your people in the bore holes—the Russians. And we must do it soon."

Mirsky disembarked from the craft and blinked at the bright tubelight. The interior of the craft had been quiet and dark, in sharp contrast to the bright glow of the seventh chamber. For the first time, he stared down the length of the corridor and felt as undeniable truth what he had hitherto only heard described. There had been so little time; the library had taken up whatever effort he had spared from being a leader. . . .

Five other Russians disembarked behind him. All had been deserters in the woods near the 180 line in the fourth chamber. They, too, blinked and covered their eyes. They, too, stared in awe down the corridor, the implications of that vast distance becoming more and more clear.

A kilometer to the west, hundreds of people gathered near the zero tunnel. They were mostly NATO personnel, Mirsky saw, also being evacuated. The Potato was being cleared, for whatever reason hardly mattered right now.